


Your Rhythm

by BreakPoint (erithacus)



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: F/F, Fem!Characters, Femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-02
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-24 07:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6146377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erithacus/pseuds/BreakPoint
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The music lovers fall in love!<br/>A suspicious and stubborn Kamio slowly falls for a persistent Atobe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Rhythm

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Belated Femslash February. 
> 
> I wrote 21000 words of rare pair. -_-; what is even my life?  
> I don't know why I needed this, I just did.

“You’re not my type.” An said with a note of finality. They had come to the street courts to play a few leisure games, but found Atobe and her flunkies had taken over. Setting her sights on An, Atobe hadn’t left them alone all afternoon.  
   
“Impossible. I’m everyone’s type.” Atobe replied with a smirk.  
  
Kamio was getting really sick of this. There was no denying that Atobe was beautiful, but having a good-looking face didn’t make up for her horrible personality. Someone was going to have to do something, she couldn’t get away with treating people the way she did.  
   
An glared at her and Kamio finally stepped up. “Leave An alone.” She spat.  
  
Atobe laughed. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s play a one-set match. If you win, I’ll be on my way. But if I win, An-chan buys me dinner.”  
  
An sputtered but Kamio didn’t miss a beat. “You’re on!” If there was one thing Kamio was confident in, it was in her tennis skills. She stormed off toward an empty court.  
  
Atobe winked at An and followed after Kamio. Her groupies flanked her, giving An dirty looks as they did.  
  
An raced to catch up to Kamio and pleaded. “Come on. This is a waste of time, let’s just leave.”  
  
Kamio gave a self-assured grin. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this.” She flashed An a ‘V’ sign and threw her jersey on a bench.  
  
Kamio couldn’t exactly identify the look in An’s eyes at her declaration. Was An doutbtful? Angry? That was okay, as long as Kamio won, they’d be fine.  
  
  
When the game started, it looked at first, as though they were about evenly matched. Kamio had taken two games in a heartbeat, using her superior quickness to get ahead. But it soon became apparent that Atobe had been playing with her. The rest of the game blew past in a blinding blizzard, leaving Kamio a bit shaken and very pissed off.  
  
The game ended quicker than any of them had anticipated. 2-6, in a mere fifteen minutes.  
  
Kamio clenched her fists and stared at the ground. She had played as well as she ever had and still only managed to take two games. Two games that Atobe had most assuredly  _let_  her take. She felt immensely disappointed in her own abilities but she was even more disappointed that she’d let An down.  
  
Atobe didn’t say anything to her when the game was over. Instead, she turned and called to An. “Looks like it’s your lucky day!” She sang.  
  
“I’m not a prize!” An leered from behind the chain-link fence.  
  
“We made an agreement and I won fair and square.” Atobe said. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and rested her free hand on her hip. “So be there. KB Haute Cuisine. 8 o’clock, tomorrow night.” She didn’t give An another chance to refuse before she turned and left. Her shadows followed after her, carrying her tennis gear.  
  
Kamio walked around the fence and over to An who was still glaring after the Hyotei crowd.  
   
“That vicious snob. Why does she think she can just do whatever she wants?” Kamio growled. She was angry at Atobe, but she was even angrier at herself.  
  
An gave her a tired look and a heavy sigh. “I’m going home.” And Kamio couldn’t help hearing the disappointment in An’s voice.  
   
Kamio was left alone on the rapidly cooling tennis court as the sun went down. She felt like she had to make this right. She felt full of shame at how easily she’d been drawn into Atobe’s game. If they had just left, like An suggested, Kamio wouldn’t be left feeling this shameful about her tennis skills and nobody would have a date with the most vile person on Earth. But there was no way An would show up for something like that. So Kamio came up with a plan instead.  
  
  
Kamio fidgeted in the booth where she was waiting for Atobe at KB Haute Cuisine. It looked more like a movie set than a restaurant. But she wasn’t going to let that throw her. She had a mission. She was going to tell Atobe off once and for all.  
  
She felt horribly out of place in the fancy restaurant. Everyone was dressed up so stylishly and she was here in her dark hoodie and sneakers. She tried to distract herself from the stares by flipping through the menu. She choked on air when she glimpsed the prices.  
  
There was suddenly a small commotion as the doors to the restaurant opened and Atobe strode through them. She looked like an idol. Her long hair flowed behind her in a way that Kamio had thought only happened in photoshoots. She was wearing sunglasses and high heels that would probably kill Kamio from the fall if she ever tried to wear anything like that. Her skirt was way too short and her top looked like it cost more than Kamio’s entire wardrobe. Kamio tried not to stare because honestly, Atobe was gorgeous, but she sure the hell didn’t want to add to Atobe’s already massive ego. So she closed her mouth, which she hadn’t even noticed had fallen open, and clenched her jaw instead.  
  
Kamio tried hard not to notice the bewildered stares that came her way when Atobe approached her table. She didn’t seem surprised that Kamio was there. She slid into the booth, bumping Kamio’s knee with her own. “Let me guess, An-chan was  _unavailable_.”  
  
Kamio narrowed her eyes, she crossed her arms, aware that she probably looked like a petulant child. “More like  _uninterested_.”  
  
Atobe shrugged one bare, elegant shoulder. Then she gave Kamio a look, as if she was appraising her.  
  
“Does that mean  _you_ are?” Atobe asked, piercing Kamio with that sharp gaze.  
  
Kamio felt her cheeks flush.  _Why_  had she thought this was a good idea?  
  
Atobe put her chin on her palm as she turned her gaze to the menu. “I’m not such bad company, you know.” She said not looking up at Kamio.  
  
“You’re a spoiled brat with no respect for other people.” Kamio glared. She sat up straighter, wanting her barbed words to have the fullest effect. “Your personality sucks and all the money in the world couldn’t buy you an ounce of humility.” Kamio felt energized. She’d rehearsed that all night.  
  
Atobe flipped a page in the menu, looking bored. “Are you done?”  
   
Kamio had been hoping this would be short. She thought Atobe would get here, be annoyed, Kamio would yell at her and then leave. But Atobe’s aloofness made her angry. Must be nice to be so sure of yourself that other people’s words don’t affect you.  
   
Atobe passed the menu over to Kamio.  
  
Kamio blinked, bewildered. “What are you doing?”  
  
“I was promised dinner. I didn’t come all the way here just to starve.”  
  
Kamio gaped. “Are you kidding me?” She couldn’t afford the  _water_  they served here.  
  
Atobe’s lips quirked but she didn’t say anything. This was clearly a power play, an attempt to turn the tables back on Kamio.  
  
The waiter came over to them and before Kamio could tell him that they wouldn’t be staying, Atobe had grabbed the menu out of her hands and said, “I’ll have the Beef Richelieu and she’ll have the pot-au-feu.”  
   
Kamio’s eyes widened. “Hey! Don’t order for me!” But the waiter was already rushing off, menu under his arm.  
  
“What are you  _doing_?” Kamio cried. Her plan had completely fallen apart.  
  
Atobe raised an eyebrow. “I’m hungry.” She said “Aren’t you?”  
  
Kamio wanted to say that Atobe could starve to death for all she cared, but then her stomach made an unearthly growl. Mortified, Kamio glared instead, crossing her arms over her traitorous stomach.  
  
Kamio knew she should leave. There was no way she could pay for anything they served here. But whenever she caught another patron glancing in their direction because of the odd couple they made, it sort of made Kamio want to stay. Was it so incredible that Kamio might have a reason to eat dinner there? Was it so unbelievable that Atobe might be interested in someone like her?  
  
She cut off that line of thinking immediately. Because, of course, that wasn’t actually what this was. Kamio was so annoyed, she forgot to leave.  
  
They sat in stubborn silence until the dishes came out. Atobe’s meal was a ridiculous looking feast and Kamio’s was some kind of soup. Kamio stared at it, they couldn’t make her pay for it if she didn’t eat it, right? Even the plates here looked as though she would be paying them off the rest of her life if she dropped one.  
  
After several moments, Atobe said. “Try it. You’ll like it.”  
  
Kamio pushed the bowl away. Truthfully, it smelled incredible, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to tell Atobe that. “How would you know what I like?”  
  
Atobe rolled her eyes and returned to her own meal.  
  
They lapsed into silence again with only the quiet hum of people around them and the classical music playing over the speakers.  
  
Kamio was still plotting. If she went to the bathroom, maybe she could slip out of a window. Or she could make a break for it. No one could catch her anyway. She wasn’t the Speed Ace of Fudomine for nothing and it wasn’t as if she was wearing her school’s uniform.  
  
Kamio was still scheming when the music changed. She found herself tapping along with it, her fingers on an invisible keyboard.  
  
It took several long moments before Kamio noticed Atobe staring. “What?” She shot, defensively.  
  
“You know Wagner?” Atobe asked.  
  
Kamio narrowed her eyes. “Surprised? Too high-brow for someone like me?”  
  
“I didn’t say that.” Atobe said, with strange sincerity.  
  
Kamio kept tapping. “Everyone knows Wagner.”  
  
Atobe looked like she wanted to laugh. “Not like that, they don’t.” Atobe seemed memorized by the way Kamio’s fingers moved. Kamio was suddenly self-conscious and put her hands on her knees, under the table where Atobe couldn’t see them.  
  
Everybody had to know Atobe was a Wagner fan. After all, she had a move named the Tannhäuser Serve. Kamio shrugged. “I just like music. And I’ve loved Die Walküne since I was a kid.” Warrior goddesses, what wasn’t there to like?  
  
Atobe gave her a glittering smile. Kamio couldn’t look directly at it. “Götterdämmerung happens to be my favourite.” It was part of the same epic piece as Die Walküne, Wagner’s four part opera, Der Ring des Nibelungen.  
  
Kamio snorted. “I’m not even remotely surprised.” War between Gods, death, destruction, the end of the world. Why was she not surprised that it happened to be Atobe’s favourite?  
  
They were quiet again but this time it only lasted a little while before Atobe broke the silence, “Will you just try the food?”  
  
Kamio had to admit the smell was driving her crazy. Her stomach was very unhappy with her.  
  
“What is it?” She asked.  
  
“It’s pot-au-feu. A French beef stew. This place is famous for it.”  
  
With as much restraint as possible, Kamio brought a spoonful to her lips.  
  
If heaven had a taste, Kamio knew it would taste just like this.  
  
Within minutes, the bowl was empty and Kamio was staring at the bottom of the ceramic vessel. She felt like she shouldn’t even speak in case she broke the magic that she had just witnessed. But she eventually, in slow words, said, “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever had in my life.”  
  
When Kamio looked up, Atobe was looking at her with a barely concealed smile. It put Kamio on edge. She’d probably looked like an untamed animal drinking the soup that quickly. The people at the tables around them were glaring. Great, she’d played right into Atobe’s hands. She’d done Atobe a favour and proven how uncultured she is, and worse, she definitely could not afford to pay for  _both_ of the meals. She had a grand total of 5000 yen, which she had been saving for concert tickets.  
  
The waiter finally brought them their bill, putting an end to the hellish wait. Kamio glanced at the receipt and felt her face grow pale. In what universe did beef stew cost  _this_  much? She couldn’t afford this if she saved up two months of allowance. She was still staring at it when Atobe’s perfectly manicured hand pulled it away from her. She handed it to the waiter, along with a card that might as well have been plated in gold. “Thank you.” She said sweetly, when the waiter handed it back a moment later.  
  
Kamio stared, dumbfounded, until it all sank in.  
  
Had this been Atobe’s plan all along? To humiliate her? Or An? Or whoever ended up coming here?  
Kamio stood angrily, she threw the 5000 yen on the table. Even if it wasn’t enough, she didn’t want to owe Atobe anything.  
  
Kamio half expected Atobe to laugh. Was that all she had on her? Atobe glanced at the money and then up to Kamio, but Kamio ran before Atobe could say anything.  
  
  
The next day at school, Kamio waited outside of An’s classroom. She wanted to report the whole sequence of events.  
  
“You actually went to that?” An asked. And Kamio was reminded of how foolish she’d been for not standing Atobe up. If she had done that, this whole thing would have already been over.  
  
Kamio also couldn’t help feeling like An looked a bit frustrated at seeing her right now. Was An really that upset that Kamio had lost to Atobe?  
  
“What’s wrong?” Kamio finally asked, because whatever it was that An was holding back was really starting to bug her.  
  
“What’s wrong?” An asked incredulous and Kamio was almost regretting this already. An was fiercer than anyone Kamio had ever met. “Atobe wasn’t the only one who was treating me like a trophy.”  
  
Kamio was embarrassed. This was true. But she also felt defensive, because all she’d wanted to do was look out for her friend. “I couldn’t just let her talk to you like that!” Kamio said.  
  
An huffed. “You didn’t have to do _anything_ , I could have handled it myself!”  
  
Kamio felt that An was being a bit unfair. It wasn’t like Kamio didn’t think An could have played Atobe or anything. She’d just acted without thinking.  
  
Kamio knew that if An was this upset, she should apologize. But she was also hurt that An couldn’t see that Kamio had done all that because she _cared_. Yes she was being overprotective, but it would have been worse to not have done anything at all, right? The conflicting emotions seemed to cancel each other out and left Kamio in a stupor.  
  
“You know, you two deserve each other.” An said before leaving Kamio behind in the hallway.  
  
  
The day passed by in a blur for Kamio. She wanted to apologize for treating An like a prize, but if she did, then wouldn’t that be like admitting she was the same as Atobe? And it wasn’t like that at all! Atobe was the one who had started it, Kamio just wanted to defend her friend! It was completely different. She just needed to make An understand somehow.  
  
Kamio was stuck in a loop the entire day and by the time the bell rang after school, it was too late. An had already left.  
  
Kamio was changing her shoes, getting ready to go home, when one of her classmates approached her.  
  
“Someone’s asking for you at the front gates.” She said. “She’s wearing a Hyotei uniform.”  
  
Kamio felt the blood drain from her face. Could this day get any worse?  
  
  
Atobe was waiting at the school gates. She was leaning against the brick wall with her arms crossed and looked to be having a pleasant conversation with a couple of third year students who had stopped to talk to her. Atobe caught a glance of Kamio over one of their shoulders and her face lit up. For a second, Kamio’s heartbeat raced.  
  
Atobe excused herself from the group, who continued on their way, giving Kamio curious looks as they did. Kamio felt herself getting angry again. Why did everyone think it was so weird that Atobe might want to talk to her? Sure, they were in the middle of some kind of feud, but her senpais could look a little _less_ impressed that Atobe had some kind of business with her.  
  
Atobe approached her and said, “Such simplicity, it must be nice.” She motioned to the school, which was much smaller and much less grand than Hyotei Academy. The students wore traditional uniforms, not fancy blazers.  
  
Kamio felt her heartbeat race again, but this time it was from anger. Did Atobe just come here to insult her school? What an absolute child. “What are you doing here?” Kamio seethed. Hadn’t embarrassing her the other day been enough?  
  
“You left in a hurry last time.” Atobe said.  
  
Kamio glared. “How anyone could stand you longer than that, I have no idea.”  
  
Amusement flashed in Atobe’s eyes. Not the emotion Kamio wanted to see.  
  
“You seemed to enjoy yourself.” Atobe said with a confidence Kamio was blindsided by.

  
“Is that the impression you got?” Kamio fumed at Atobe’s cool composure. “Then you’re a jerk _and_ you suck at reading people.”  
  
Kamio shoved her way past, she didn’t need to hear whatever it was Atobe had come all the way over here to say. But as she moved, Atobe reached out and touched her arm. It hadn’t hurt. It had been barely a brush, but it halted Kamio in her tracks.

  
Kamio turned on her. “ _What_ do you want?” She growled. She stubbornly ignored the way her entire body had reacted to Atobe’s touch. The light stroke of Atobe’s fingers against her bare forearm, had jolted her entire being.

  
Atobe’s piercing blue eyes drilled into her for a long second before she simply said, “Let’s go to the opera.”

  
It took a few seconds for the words to catch up in Kamio’s brain. “You want to _what?_ ”

  
Atobe wasn’t at all deterred by her shock. “ _Tristan und Isolde_ is playing at the-”

  
“I don’t know what you’re trying to get out of this, but whatever it is, just give it up.” Seriously, this joke or fight or whatever it was had gone too far. It was causing a rift between Kamio and one of her best friends. If Atobe had just minded her own business in the first place, none of this would have happened. She’d already humiliated Kamio at the restaurant, wasn’t that enough? Did Atobe want to put her in another situation where she could laugh at how uncultured and unrefined she was? There was no way Atobe could have known that Kamio had wanted to see it since she saw the first poster go up downtown two months ago. But at 20000 yen a ticket, she’d given up on _that_ dream real quick.

  
Atobe blinked. “I-”

  
“Leave. Me. Alone.” Kamio turned and walked away, leaving Atobe alone by the school gates.  
  
  
The rest of the week was too busy for Kamio to talk to An or worry about Atobe. Tennis practice had gotten more intense with Tachibana-buchou’s inevitable graduation coming up. And the music festival was coming up too. Kamio had jokingly suggested Kyou, Shinju and herself should form their own band to get out of having to wear their school’s unflattering choir outfits. Surprisingly they went for it and their music teacher had loved it so much he’d entered them into the festival as a unit. At the time, Kamio had been ecstatic. It was her last chance to do something requiring so much commitment before she would officially take over Captain’s duties. But now, her free time had all but dwindled to nothing. Still, she was too excited about it to regret it.  
  
Today was Wednesday, and she had exactly two hours after tennis practice to swing by the street courts before dinner and band practice. So Kamio had to suppress a loud groan when Atobe showed up at the same time. How was it possible that Kamio had gone the whole year without having to see Atobe in person and all of a sudden she was dealing with her four times in one week?  
  
“You don’t have to look so disgusted.” Atobe said, making Kamio wonder what kind of expression she had been wearing. It sounded like it accurately represented what she was thinking anyway.  
  
“Are you here to force more people into a date with you?” Kamio narrowed her eyes.  
  
“You could save me the trouble and just agree to another one.” Atobe shot back. She waited for a moment to see what Kamio would say.  
  
Kamio sputtered. That definitely hadn’t counted as a ‘date’. Atobe was clearly making fun of her, Kamio could bet Atobe would never be caught dead dating someone like Kamio anyway. “Hell no.” Kamio sneered.  
  
“Why not?” Atobe asked and actually looked interested in the answer.  
  
“Because you _annoy me_.” Kamio said. Clearly only the plainest words would make sense to Atobe. There was no use in trying to be polite about it, Atobe would just find a way to turn criticism into a compliment, like most narcissists.  
  
“Why?” Atobe asked again.  
  
Kamio’s eyes widened. Maybe all that thick hair made it hard for Atobe to think. “Are you serious? Do I have to make you a list?”  
  
But that didn’t appear to appeal to Atobe, as she left Kamio to herself and went to talk to someone else on the other side of the courts. Kamio noticed, for the first time, that none of Atobe’s followers were with her today.  
  
Kamio watched her suspiciously, but she didn’t appear to be picking fights with anyone today. The people there seemed genuinely pleased to talk to her. Atobe had a quality about her that made people pay attention. Kamio would be lying if she said she wasn’t just a little envious. Atobe turned heads everywhere she went, it was sort of sad that a girl that beautiful had to resort to intimidation and tricks to get people to date her. But that was her own fault for having such lousy character flaws.  
  
Whatever, it wasn’t like Kamio really cared if Atobe went on actual dates or not. She turned her attention to the people just arriving. She just wanted to play and get her mind off of everything.  
  
  
Kamio was feeling really good after winning two games in a row. She supposed she should head home right away, she’d overstayed already and would be late for dinner. But her good mood fell flat when she turned around and saw Atobe watching her from the sidelines.  
  
“What? Couldn’t win any dates?” Kamio scowled.  
  
“You know, that’s not something I usually do.” Atobe said, stepping onto the court as Kamio was stepping off it.  
  
“I don’t care.” Kamio said and started throwing her things in her bag. The less time she wasted here, the better.  
  
Atobe seemed to hesitate a moment before saying, “An just seemed nice.”  
  
Kamio stopped what she was doing. Atobe’s words had sounded almost unpretentious just then. Like she was a person with actual feelings and not an Ice Queen who scared people into liking her.  
  
Atobe realized she had her attention now and continued, “I thought it’d be nice to talk, is all.”  
  
Kamio felt a little sick to her stomach. She didn’t know if it was because Atobe was talking about someone Kamio cared about and was fighting with at the moment, or because of this unexpected personal conversation in which Atobe came off as an actual human being. Maybe it was both.  
  
“Well you royally screwed that up, didn’t you?” Kamio spat. She didn’t know why she was so angry. Maybe she was bothered because it looked like Atobe had _wanted_ an actual date with An from the beginning. And maybe Kamio envied Atobe a little, being that forward about the people she liked. But it still didn’t change anything, Atobe was a jerk and even if she was pretty and confident, An was never going to like her back. So there was really no reason for Kamio to be this bothered by the conversation.  
  
“When you showed up instead, I was disappointed. So I decided to mess with you instead.” Atobe said. Kamio had figured that much already, but she was surprised Atobe would admit it so easily.

“But then you turned out to be a lot of fun. Smart _and_ cute. I guess I was smitten.” Kamio’s mouth was suddenly dry. Just what was Atobe saying? Kamio suddenly felt like there was a weight on her chest, making it a little hard to breathe. Atobe wasn’t actually saying what she thought she was saying, right? “And the way you devoured that soup without a care in the world, with all those people watching… it was hilarious.” The weight on Kamio’s chest suddenly disappeared. Atobe _was_ just making fun of her. Of course Atobe wasn’t actually _smitten_ with her.  
  
_It was hilarious?_ Kamio felt her ire rising. “I see, humiliating me in a restaurant full of people was fun, was it?” Ugh, Atobe was the worst. She caught what looked like an actual stunned look on Atobe’s face before shouldering her bag and heading to her bike. How did Atobe manage to always make Kamio this angry in such few words? It was really remarkable.  
  
  
After dinner, Kamio met up with Kyou a few blocks from Shinju’s place where they had been practicing for their band the last couple of weeks.  
  
Right away her friends could tell that there was something bothering her. Kamio’d never been the type of person to hold all her emotions inside. She had to admit that it sometimes caused problems.

She recounted the whole Atobe showing up at the street courts thing and then realized that she’d left out the beginning at the restaurant and the game for An, so she had to explain that whole mess too. When she finally stopped to take a breath, half an hour had gone by. They hadn’t practiced at all and Kamio had spent the entire time taking about Atobe. Was there _anything_ Atobe couldn’t ruin these days?  
  
Her friends patiently waited until she had ranted herself hoarse, before suggesting that maybe they should get to practicing. Kamio was embarrassed that she’d managed to go on for that long, but she quickly put it behind her because the song they were going to perform at the Musical Festival was one of her favourites by Sheena Ringo and on top of that, this weekend was a concert she had been looking forward to for months. Even Atobe couldn’t take that away from her.  
  
  
The week was finally over and Kamio was ecstatic because months ago she’d managed to get tickets to one of her favourite bands. It would be the perfect end to a rather horrific week. She still needed to apologize to An and she still couldn’t help thinking about Atobe, but this concert was the perfect thing to get her mind off all her troubles.  
  
As soon as the tickets had gone on sale, Kamio had managed to snag some for her and her friends only because she had extremely fast fingers. The people in the convenience store had stopped and stared as she furiously typed the concert information into the Loppi machine the moment tickets were available. They were in the ‘nosebleed’ section, but Kamio was so excited she would have bought ‘standing-across-the-street-and-eavesdropping’ tickets if those were the only ones in her price range.  
  
Kamio raced through her homework and then ran all the way to Shinju’s house to meet up before the concert. All day Kamio had been filled with energy. “Aren’t you ready yet?” Kamio groaned as Shinju took her time combing her already perfectly straight hair.  
  
When they finally got to the concert, well before the actual start, Kamio got in line for the goods. She spent the very last of her savings on a t-shirt and put it on over the tank top she was wearing. It was a size too big, but Kamio liked the way it hung off her just a little. It slunk down at the shoulders and she felt it kind of matched her torn up jeans. Torn jeans were supposed to be in style, but Kamio had never shelled out any money for them. She just fell a lot while roller-skating.  
  
As they walked to their seats, Kamio tried to get a good look at the front of the stage. Even though their seats were all the way at the back, she had never been this close to the band before. She excitedly gripped Shinju’s shoulder. “Look! Look!” She beamed at the band’s name written across the stage. But her excitement evaporated when she saw who was front-row and center. Atobe, of course. She was even wearing the same t-shirt Kamio was, only the right size, so it looked better on Atobe’s athletic body. Kamio suddenly felt unattractive in her baggy shirt and ripped jeans.  
  
Kamio felt her blood heat up even from just seeing her. Why did Atobe have to ruin _everything_? Her friends noticed the sudden shift in her mood but she refused to say why when they asked her about it. She was _not_ going to ruin this magical night by saying that witch’s name out loud.  
  
Luckily, once the concert started, Kamio forgot all about Atobe. The lights dimmed and all she could see was the stage. When the music started, she was immediately sucked into the sounds. The performance reverberating through her whole body. She was far from the stage, but it felt like she was the only fan in the whole world. It was impossible to remember just how angry Atobe made her.  
  
Two hours later the lights finally turned on and Kamio felt like she was waking up from a dream. The concert was over way too soon. Kamio and the others hurried to the side door hoping to get a glimpse of the band leaving. Kamio was still riding the high of the concert and she had completely forgotten about Atobe. So when Atobe joined them at the door, Kamio’s mood did a 180.  
  
“I didn’t know you’d be here.” Atobe said conversationally. Like they were supposed to be friends or something.  
  
Kamio narrowed her eyes. “Why would you?” It wasn’t like Kamio would have told her or anything. What did Atobe even mean?  
  
Atobe blinked at her, apparently a bit surprised at her defensiveness. Did Atobe _not_ remember their last conversation? “Well if I knew you were coming, I could have gotten you better tickets.” Atobe said pointedly.  
  
It took a lot of willpower for Kamio to not envision that wonderful sounding alternative universe where she got to see one of her favourite bands up close. But at the same time, she clenched her jaw because Atobe had automatically assumed wherever Kamio was seated wasn’t good enough. As if it wasn’t where Kamio had _chosen_ to sit. “I don’t need your _charity_.” She spat. Did Atobe just want to remind her that she was richer? And prettier? And more talented? And _God_ why couldn’t Atobe just leave her alone? She might have accidentally said that last part out loud.  
  
Atobe looked a bit taken a back at Kamio’s vehement response. “Well,” Atobe said coldly. “I’m sure you enjoyed the view of the back of my head.” She turned on her heel and walked off.  
  
Good! As long as Atobe was leaving, Kamio could stay where she was.  
  
Kamio ignored the looks her friends were giving her.  
  
  
After school on Monday, Kamio hurriedly grabbed her things and changed her shoes. If she ran part of the way home, she could cut An off before the turn to the Tachibana’s house. Kamio put on her headphones and selected her fastest playlist. She raced out the door.  
  
She was already running at full speed, people flashing by in blurry colours, but she stopped dead in her tracks when Atobe put herself directly in her way.  
  
“ _What_ are you doing here?” She demanded, wrenching the headphones off and letting them settle around her neck. She was already angry before Atobe could open her mouth because dealing with Atobe meant she wouldn’t catch up to An today.  
  
For a split second, Kamio could have sworn Atobe looked a little bit flustered at Kamio’s automatic defensiveness. Good. That was probably the first time she’d ever seen Atobe’s ice-cold veneer waver.  
  
“I want to go to the opera.” Atobe said, regaining all her usual confidence in a heartbeat.  
  
Kamio glared. “And what? You need my permission or something?” Why would Atobe come all the way over just to wave that in her face?  
  
Atobe handed her a ticket. It was for Wagner’s _Tristan and Isolde_. Box seats. Seats Kamio would never be able to afford on her own.  
  
“I want to go with _you_.” Atobe said, sort of blowing Kamio’s mind a little, because seriously just how much was Atobe invested in this weird mind-game of hers?  
  
“Well then we have a problem because I _don’t_ want to go with _you_.” Kamio said and held the ticket back out.  
  
How the hell could someone get in an argument with someone else every other day and then show up the next and act like that never happened? Where the hell was Atobe’s head at? Kamio was deeply wary of whatever Atobe was trying to accomplish. Did she want to embarrass Kamio again so badly? Did she think Kamio would fall for it that easily?  
  
“I don’t know what I could have possibly done to make you dislike me _this_ much.” Atobe said, fixing Kamio with a look that sort of made her squirm.

 “How about when you bullied my friend into a date with you?” That was certainly a strong start.

Atobe raised an eyebrow. “A date they had no obligation to actually attend and in fact, _didn’t_ show up for?” She pointed out and Kamio, once again, felt like a loser for actually going to that. And if she was really studying the facts, Atobe was obnoxious and rude, but she hadn’t really done more than beat Kamio in a fair game and then get stood up by the person she’d been pursuing. Was Kamio over-reacting to this whole thing?  
  
Atobe didn’t look even a little upset at Kamio’s attitude. “I think we’d have fun together.” She said, not touching the ticket Kamio was trying to give back. Apparently on top of being hopelessly oblivious, Atobe could also just blow past all of Kamio’s hostility, which just pissed Kamio off even more.  
  
“ _Fun_? We don’t even like each other!”  
  
Atobe fixed her with a look. “ _I_ like _you_.”  
  
Whatever Kamio was thinking Atobe might say, that was absolutely not it. She felt her face suddenly flush. What on Earth was Atobe saying?  
  
“I like how high-spirited you are. And how you’re protective of your friends. And how you get excited about little things, even a bowl of soup.”  
  
Of course Atobe would bring up the soup again. Kamio clenched her fists. This suddenly made sense. Why Atobe would keep bothering _her_ when the Hyotei Captain could literally take anyone else on the entire Earth to the damn opera. If Atobe had had so much fun embarrassing Kamio in the restaurant, how much more fun could she have seeing Kamio make a fool of herself during an opera performance? A performance full of people Kamio could never dream to fit in with, people who didn’t have to save up for months just to see one show. Atobe wasn’t actually interested in _her_ as a person, but a weird social experiment where rich people want to see how the other half live.  
  
 “If you want to go so badly, take one of your fanclub members.” Kamio glared before speeding away. _They_ wouldn’t care if Atobe made a fool of them for sport.  
  
  
The next day at school, Kamio was on her way to sixth period art class when she saw Atobe standing in the hallway next the school’s entrance. At first Kamio had assumed she was hallucinating. But the thick, light-coloured hair, the brown school blazer, the patterned skirt… it _had_ to be Atobe, but just what the hell was she doing hanging around Kamio’s school again? This was definitely stalking, right? Kamio should probably call the police.  
  
Atobe was leaning against the trophy wall near the Principal’s office. She glanced at her watch. She was clearly waiting for somebody. Students walking by were pretending not to stare. Kamio stalked over to her.

She felt embarrassed at the way people were staring at them. Kamio wondered just how plain she looked standing next to someone as radiant as Atobe.  
  
“What are you doing here?” Kamio demanded.

“Relax.” Atobe smirked. “I’m not here for you.”

Kamio was surprised at how she felt just a little insulted. She stared at Atobe, confusedly. Who else was she meeting then? Who else was she pestering now? It made Kamio a little bit angry.

Atobe must have noticed something that Kamio didn’t even realize she was projecting because Atobe said, “You don’t have to be jealous. I’m here on business.”

Kamio felt her cheeks grow hot. “I’m _not_ jealous.” And yet somehow she was relieved to hear that.

“Atobe.” Tachibana-buchou approached them, with An following curiously behind.

An glared at Atobe and for a moment Kamio thought she might have to step between them again. But then all at once Atobe had bowed her head, surprising all present. Her hair fell in front of her face.

“I’m sorry about last time.” She said and actually managed to sound like she meant it. “I acted really childishly.”

An stared suspiciously at her for a long moment. Tachibana-buchou looked between them, confused. Kamio figured An probably hadn’t mentioned the incident to anyone since Tachibana-buchou could get needlessly protective.

“As long as you’re not here to cause trouble.” An relented.  
  
Kamio was suddenly pissed again. This whole thing had started because Atobe had been bullying An, and everything was forgiven just like that? Jealousy spiked through Kamio like hot pokers. How did someone as proud and absurd as Atobe apologize so easily when Kamio hadn’t yet managed to get the words out?

“I promise.” Atobe assured them all.

“We can talk in the clubroom.” Tachibana-buchou said and motioned for Atobe to follow her.  
  
Atobe turned to Kamio. “Like I said, just business.”

Kamio flushed. “Like I care!”  
  
Kamio glared after them, fingers digging in her palms, when An’s voice said, “What are they meeting about?”

The innocent question made Kamio even angrier because she didn’t know. And wasn’t she supposed to be let in on things concerning the team? “No idea.”

It occurred to Kamio that now would be the opportune time to apologize to An. But Kamio was annoyed that Atobe had apologized first and if she apologized right now, it would only bring attention to that fact. Instead, Kamio had to somehow remind An that Atobe wasn’t a good person at all. And the reason they were fighting to begin with was completely Atobe’s fault.

“She’s been stalking me.” Kamio said.

“Stalking you?” An raised an eyebrow.

“Yes! She’d been completely obsessed with me. She wants to embarrass me in front of all her rich friends.”  
  
“Why would she do that?”  
  
“Because she’s evil!” Kamio said. “She has all the money and power she could possibly want so she has to make her own fun by picking on people. She gets to the street courts at _exactly_ five fifteen every day. She does it, just to annoy me! And her driver drives her literally everywhere, so she can just show up wherever she wants, whenever she wants.” Kamio went into another rant before she could stop herself. She wasn’t even sure how much time had passed when she finally rolled it to a stop.

She waited to hear what An would say about all of this. Atobe staking her. Atobe being such a constant, obnoxious fixture in her life right now.

An looked almost annoyed, before saying, “I wonder who’s obsessed with who here?”  
  
An turned and walked away, down the long hallway toward their classrooms.

Kamio felt like a jackass, she should have just apologized.  
  
  
The next day at school passed pretty uneventfully. Tachibana still hadn’t said anything about her meeting with Atobe. It bothered Kamio that as Vice Captain she wasn’t let in on whatever they’d talked about, but she wasn’t going to pressure Tachibana-buchou about it. When she wanted Kamio to know, she’d know.  
  
Kamio was just happy when the bell finally rang and she could make her way to tennis practice. She needed the distraction and tennis nearly always took all her troubles away. But when Kamio got to the club room, her teammates were gathered around outside talking in low voices.

  
Kamio became instantly worried. Did something happen? They all looked up and grew silent when she approached. “What’s wrong?” She asked, looking to her captain for an explanation.

  
Tachibana-buchou offered her a strange, bewildered look before pointing toward the door.

  
Kamio’s eyes almost fell out of her head. There in the club room were hundreds of light blue roses. They covered the tops of the lockers and all of the benches. They were weaved along the pipes and arranged in some pretty impressive designs in large vases on the floor. They covered almost every inch of the, admittedly, small space.

  
“What’s going on?” Kamio gaped and Tachibana-buchou handed her an envelope. It had Kamio’s name on it.

  
Inside was a short note in an undeniably familiar script. _Fanclub members are boring. Go to the opera with me. Please? –A._

  
Kamio felt her face get hot.

  
“Akira? What is it?” Kyou asked.

  
Kamio crumpled the paper in her hand. “Someone is messing with me.” She seethed. So Atobe couldn’t make her go to the opera, so she started resorting to pranks? Just how childish was she?

  
Tachibana-buchou gave her a look, “This seems an awful lot of work to put into a prank.” She said.

  
Kamio narrowed her eyes. “That’s because she’s a spoiled brat who doesn’t know when to quit.” She stormed into the room toward her locker, shoving as many roses out of her way as she could. She stepped on as many as she could manage before realizing she probably looked like a kid throwing a tantrum.  
  
What the hell was all this? _Please?_ Was that what Atobe thought was missing? And insulting her own fanclub members?  That just proved how crappy a person she was. Everyone knew that Atobe was a serial dater and dumper. Who knew how many fanclub members she’d gone through by now? How did people still idolize someone like her? And this was straight-up bullying now, wasn’t it? _  
  
_ All her teammates were looking at her suspiciously but she couldn’t possibly tell them that it was some stupid game Atobe was playing with her that she had yet to fully understand.   
  
Kamio was so annoyed that she lost two matches in a row. Whenever someone asked her if she was okay, she just waved them off. She knew that they were waiting for an explanation for the commotion in their clubroom, but Kamio definitely didn’t want to waste time talking about it. Kamio lost a third match and Tachibana-buchou told her to take a break. Kamio sat fuming on the bench for the rest of practice. This was all Atobe’s fault. What could Atobe possibly hope to get out of all of this? She’d already delayed their practice time, which was small enough as it is, and then forced Kamio to stay late and clean up the numerous, wilting flowers when she was supposed to be practicing with the band.  
  
  
Over the next week, everyone slowly forgot about the prank with the flowers. Kamio still hadn’t told them who they were from and she got the distinct impression they were unpleased she was keeping it secret. But she didn’t want them to have to get involved in whatever Atobe was planning or to demand answers Kamio didn’t have.  
  
The week went by without any other events and Friday night found Kamio lying on her bed, listening to music. She groaned and read Shinju’s text message again, hoping that maybe there was an update, but it still said she wouldn’t be able to accompany Kamio to a concert tomorrow night. She sighed and tossed her phone on her nightstand. She didn’t know if she believed Shinju’s excuse or if Shinju was still mad about the flower thing.  
  
Kamio didn’t know anyone else who would be willing to go to an electronicore concert with her. She could probably beg Kyou to go with her, but Kyou didn’t particularly like the band and she had already done Kamio several favours this month, Kamio didn’t feel like asking for another. Plus, she was probably still mad too. When Kamio had sent a plea to the team’s LINE chat, all the replies cited prior commitments. So Kamio was on her own.  
  
Kamio slowly got up and started to gather her tennis stuff. She decided to let it be for now and head to the street courts. Maybe she’d meet someone cool there who might be willing to attend a concert with her. If worse came to worse, she could always give it away online. Though it seemed like a bit of a waste.  
  
Kamio had to physically restrain the massive sigh she wanted to heave when _of course_ Atobe was at the street courts first. Didn’t she have like a team to captain or something? How could she find so much time to waste on the other side of the city?  
  
Part of Kamio wanted to march over and kick her in the shin for the rose thing, but Kamio knew a reaction was exactly what Atobe wanted. It would be better if Kamio ignored her all together.  
  
Luckily, the street courts were a little more busy than usual and Kamio stayed on the other side of the courts, easily avoiding Atobe.  
  
After a particularly good match, Kamio casually asked her opponent their plans for the next day, mentioning she had an extra ticket to a sold out show. But her opponent apologized, they had a prior engagement.  
  
Kamio didn’t have any luck with the rest of her match-ups that evening either. Things looked like she was going to have to go to a stranger on the Internet after all. Kamio was packing up her things when she sensed someone behind her. Turning slightly, she was both a bit startled but also not-that-surprised to see it was Atobe. She truly seemed oblivious to how Kamio wanted to avoid her. Or maybe that was _why_ Atobe was always getting in her face.  
  
Atobe had an interesting, unreadable expression on her face. “I thought you were _against_ playing matches for dates?”  
  
Kamio rolled her eyes and turned back to her bag. Of course Atobe wanted to fight with her right away. Why wouldn’t she? It wasn’t like she cared that she was ruining Kamio’s perfectly good day or anything.  
  
Kamio was really not in the mood for this. “What? Infringing on your territory?”  
  
Atobe crossed her arms. “It just seems really hypocritical.”  
  
Kamio almost laughed. Did Atobe _actually_ believe Kamio was trying to win dates with tennis? That  was purely Atobe’s sort of thing.  
  
“Well it worked so well for you, I thought I’d try it out.” Kamio said. She wondered if the sarcasm would fly right over Atobe’s head.

For once Atobe didn’t have any snappy comebacks and when Kamio looked over her shoulder, Atobe’s expression looked honestly bewildered. 

“It would have been better, if you hadn’t run out so quickly.” Atobe said and Kamio had to do a physical double-take.

“You and I remember things _very_ differently.” Kamio groaned. “And that _wasn’t_ a date.”  
  
Atobe still didn’t seem to know what to make of this. Kamio shouldered her bag.  
  
“Oh, before I forget,” Kamio added. “Thanks _so_ much for ruining our practice time with those hideous flowers. I’m sure you’ll be thrilled to know I spent half an hour cleaning them up instead of getting to play.”

For once in her life, Atobe didn’t seem to know what to say. Then after a moment of blissful silence, she said, “Someone from my fanclub would have been thrilled to get a gift like that.” She seemed weirdly defensive for someone out to ruin someone else’s life.

Kamio’s eyes already hurt from the thousand and one eye rolls she wanted to give. Atobe seemed to be powered by the relentless admiration from the people in her fanclub. She fed off their adoration while using them to feed her own ego. Kamio even remembered seeing her shove someone out of her way once when they were trying to give her a present at a tournament the year before Kamio entered Fudomine. Why someone like her could still have a fanclub was a complete mystery to Kamio.  
  
Kamio had exhausted her options here. Everyone else had already left since it was now eight o’clock, making Kamio and Atobe the last two people on the courts. The court lights had come on some time ago, but Kamio hadn’t even noticed. Kamio wondered if she should check out the other street courts a train ride away, the kids over there were infamous night owls, but Atobe stopped her in her tracks.

“Let me play you for that ticket you’ve been trying to give away.”  
  
Obviously Kamio’s first reaction was a hard _no_. Not only was she not looking to see more of Atobe, but she wasn’t in a hurry to be defeated as quickly as she had the last time either. But when she actually thought about it, she kind of _did_ want to play Atobe again. Usually top tier players like her didn’t frequent places like this, since she had over 200 members in her school club and top notch training facilities. Atobe’s intentions were a mystery to her. But Kamio felt the draw that every serious player felt toward their betters. She wanted to play. And play again. And play again until one day she could defeat her in a straight-out bout. Also, it would be incredibly entertaining to see Atobe at a screamo concert, because something told Kamio she wasn’t the type to like it.

Kamio tried to keep the smirk from her face. “Okay.” She agreed.  
  
The stars were already coming out as Kamio took her position opposite Atobe. She felt a bit odd about the whole thing. It felt strange that she should be this excited about a match with someone she knew she didn’t stand a chance against. Was this masochism? On top of that, she was actually sort of looking forward to shocking Atobe with a surprise electro-metal show. Was this sadism? 

This time Kamio didn’t try to hurry. She studied Atobe, took opportunities that presented themselves, she played like she might have played if they had ever faced off in a tournament. She got only one game off Atobe, but this time Kamio felt like Atobe hadn’t handed it to her on a silver platter. When the game ended, Kamio felt energized. The opposite of what she’d felt the first time they’d played. She felt so good that even Atobe’s annoying face was a bit less annoying in the bright moonlight.  
  
Atobe was grinning at her, it made her uncomfortable.  
  
“You’re really good.” Atobe said.

Kamio just gave her a bitter smile.

“You seem skeptical.” Atobe said. And Kamio was actually a bit impressed the oblivious, self-centered girl could recognize it.

“Gee, maybe it’s because of those two games you let me take last time.”

Atobe blinked. “ _Let_ you?”

Kamio scoffed. “Please, don’t act like you didn’t. You let me take two games just to mess with me before not letting me get _any_ consecutive points afterward.”

Atobe studied Kamio for a long moment for saying, “Do I really seem that petty?”

Atobe truly lived in a delusional world. It’d be great if Kamio could ignore her own flaws just as easily.

Atobe sighed and pressed a finger to her forehead. She looked annoyed. “I didn’t _let_ you take those games. It was my own fault for underestimating you. I got serious after that. I had to, or I would have lost.”

Kamio was having a bit of trouble processing this. Atobe was not a gracious person. So what was this?

“You’re pretty remarkable, you know.” Atobe said. A bit softly. Kamio wasn’t entirely sure she heard her correctly.  
  
Kamio took a moment to unzip her bag and pulled out the ticket. She held it out to Atobe.

Atobe took it and stared at it for a moment. She clearly didn’t recognize the name of the band because she looked questioningly at Kamio.

For a second Kamio thought she looked sort of adorable.  
  
For a second Kamio almost wanted to warn Atobe about the concert….

…almost.  
  
  
Kamio got to the venue relatively early. She figured if Atobe stood her up because she’d researched what they were going to, she might have time to meet some new people. Maybe make some friends who _wouldn’t_ be the reason she had to attend a concert with her mortal enemy. But when she arrived, Atobe was already there.  
  
“Why are you so early?” She asked, suddenly suspicious.  
  
“I didn’t want to be late.” Was all Atobe said.  
  
Atobe was once again wearing flashy clothes that would look out of place anywhere but in the heart of Tokyo on a Saturday night waiting to get into a popular concert. She did look a bit too formal for the crowd they were in, but no one seemed to care. Kamio always felt shabby next to her, but at least dressed so casually she fit in with the rest of the crowd. She owned a million pairs of slightly different black pants and exactly three pairs of sneakers. She wondered what Atobe would think if she told her that. Maybe the fashionista would faint.  
  
“So what kind of concert is this?” Atobe asked, looking around at the people milling about.  
  
Kamio smirked. “You’ll have to wait and see.”  
  
Once inside, Kamio got a spot close to the front, in between some pretty serious fans who were fighting over the front banister. Atobe stuck close to her side, eyeing everything like it was from an alien race. Kamio was really looking forward to seeing whether her snobby sensibilities could handle this. What would she do when the moshing started?  
  
When the stage lights came on, the crowd went wild and Kamio jumped in with the other fans clawing their way to the front. She instantly forgot about Atobe somewhere far behind her.

When the music started, it invaded all of her senses. It drowned out the humdrum of the entire world, filling it instead with loud and fast guitar riffs and lyrics screamed through a microphone.  
  
Music always lit Kamio up. She felt it was the reason for her existence. She jumped up and down with the crowd, the music drowning out every other sound. But her jumps were perfectly in sync with the bass so it sounded as if the music was coming from her own body. Bright colours exploded in front of her eyes. Her life became nothing but lights and sounds. Yes, this is why she had come. Surrounded by other bodies lost in the flow, it was like they were a tide breaking onto the shore.  
  
Halfway through the show, she had completely forgotten that Atobe was there until she caught a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye, near the slightly less enthusiastic fans outside the tide.

Atobe had her hands over her ears and a grimace on her face. All in all she looked like she was having a lousy time. Kamio felt vaguely sorry for her. But it was _Atobe_ who had wanted them to go to a show together, if the precious princess couldn’t handle it, that wasn’t Kamio’s fault. She was free to leave whenever she liked, and maybe now she would leave Kamio alone.  
  
When the concert ended, Kamio felt sore all over from where she’d fallen and been shoved. But it was a good ache, like after a brutal match where she had come out the victor. She felt the music draining from her skin like she was getting out of a hot spring.  
  
Atobe found her in the thinning crowd. “That was _quite_ the experience.” Atobe said, louder than she had to, her ears must be ringing. Kamio couldn’t figure out if she was being snotty or not. She clearly hadn’t enjoyed the concert as much as Kamio had, so what was she still doing here?

Afterwards, Kamio and Atobe stood outside of the venue with the rest of the lingering crowd. Kamio wondered if she should apologize. She wasn’t typically a petty person. She may have brought Atobe here to try and scare her away, but Atobe had stuck it out and actually Kamio was a little bit glad. Atobe was still here talking about the compositions and Kamio was drifting in and out of the topic and could barely hear her anyway because of all the ringing in her ears. Finally, Kamio asked, “Why didn’t you leave?”

Atobe looked genuinely confused. “Because you invited me.”

Her words made Kamio’s heart skip a beat. But she felt she had to remind Atobe, “I didn’t _invite_ you. I lost a bet.”  
  
A touch of red came into Atobe’s cheeks. “If you didn’t want me to come, why did you agree to it?” She demanded.  
  
Kamio felt a bit angry at the way Atobe had phrased that question. But she had known just as well that she couldn’t beat Atobe, so wasn’t agreeing to the bet the same as wanting Atobe to come? But it wasn’t really like that. It wasn’t like Kamio _wanted_ to spend more time with Atobe. The real reason was completely juvenile.  
  
“Revenge!” Kamio said, surprised Atobe hadn’t figure that out already. She’d invited Atobe to a concert she knew she wasn’t going to like to get her back for the flowers and for making her get benched during practice. That was all.  
  
“I see.” Atobe said coldly.

“I wanted to get you back for those roses.” Kamio said, for some reason she felt she needed clarify that.

“They were supposed to be a gift.”

Kamio laughed out loud. “ _Some_ gift! It took five huge trash bags to clean up!”

Atobe turned away from her in a dramatic fashion, her hair swishing behind her back. She stormed away. As Kamio watched her leave, she had an uncomfortable feeling in her gut. Atobe was acting like Kamio had insulted her or something. Which was sort of what Kamio had intended to do with this concert, but now that Atobe seemed to be _actually_ mad. Kamio wasn’t sure that was what she wanted either…  
  
  
And of course because this was Kamio’s life, when it rains, it pours. The reason for Atobe’s talk with Tachibana-buchou was finally revealed that Tuesday when Hyotei showed up for a surprise joint-practice. Tachibana-buchou had elected to keep it a secret until the day of the practice and Kamio really didn’t blame her, since the two teams had never got along to begin with. 

Kamio’s team wasn’t particularly welcoming to the Hyotei students and the Hyotei team didn’t exactly look thrilled to be there either. As always, not only were the Regulars there, but their ever-growing collection of fans had invaded the bleachers.

“Why do we have to play with a bunch of unseeded losers?” Kamio heard one of the promising Hyotei first years groan.

Kamio was about to tell the first year off, but Atobe got there first. “You dare talk that way about a team that beat us?”

The first year raised an eyebrow. “But that was because we didn’t even send our real members.”

“You wanna rephrase that?” A Hyotei Regular in a blue hat growled. Kamio remembered her as Shishido Ryo, Tachibana had made quick work of her in the Kantou Tournament.

Atobe narrowed her eyes. “We lost because of arrogance, nothing less. Go warm a bench, Aya. We’re guests here and you’re insulting our hosts.”  
  
Kamio swallowed as she watched the way the first year slunk away behind her friends. Kamio didn’t envy her, being on the receiving end of Atobe’s intensity looked scary. Not that she would really know, since Atobe was doing an excellent job at ignoring her completely.  
  
It wasn’t like Kamio was bothered by that. After all, she’d _wanted_ Atobe to leave her alone, right? Still, even though that was the case, she couldn’t help sneaking glances at her whenever she could. Just to make sure Atobe wasn’t looking at _her_. Atobe never did and Kamio felt strangely unsatisfied about it.  
  
Kamio played against a second year she didn’t recognize and completely destroyed her. The game was over in a blink. Then she played against Wakashi Hiyori, the rumoured next captain of Hyotei. Kamio actually liked her. She was serious and really good at tennis. Their scores remained pretty close throughout the game and Kamio was excited to take her on in a real tournament someday. After they’d shaken each other’s hands, Kamio followed the other girl’s gaze across the courts to where the current captains were facing off.  
  
A small crowd had gathered so they made their way over as well.  
  
The tension was incredible, neither one of them was giving an inch. As Kamio watched Tachibana and Atobe, she was in awe. But she was also suddenly sad. Would it ever be possible for her to play like that? She wanted to be a person that Tachibana-buchou could rely on. She wanted to be a proper successor for Tachibana-buchou and be able to take the team to the top. But how could she be that person when she was nowhere near their levels?  
  
  
On the court, Tachibana couldn’t help but notice the way Atobe’s eyes would wonder to their audience every once in a while. At first she was sure it was because Atobe had always been a show-boat and needed to make sure the audience was still captive. But after a while she realized that Atobe was looking _at_ someone in particular. Things slowly fell into place.

“It was you who sent those flowers to our clubroom, wasn’t it?” She asked.  
  
Atobe didn’t deny anything but she didn’t look like she was going to confirm it either.  
  
“Why?” Tachibana asked, though she sort of felt she already knew the answer.  
  
Atobe looked reluctant to reveal her motives. So Tachibana decided a slight change of subject was in order. “Did you ever see me play back when I was in Kyushuu?” Though they had rarely crossed paths at that time, Tachibana had been very aware of Atobe as a player and knew the feelings were probably mutual.  
  
Atobe grinned. “Oh yes. You were brutal. Like Brunhilde from Wagner’s Valkyries.”  
  
Tachibana returned her grin. “Sometimes old habits die hard.” She watched the way Atobe’s eyes tried to pry into her, try to understand just what she was referring to. “Say, for instance, if someone were to hurt someone I care about.” Tachibana added. She watched the meaning dawn across Atobe’s face.  
  
Atobe didn’t look intimated in the least, but she gave an annoyed sigh as she sent a particularly hard back hand. “Everyone seems to think I have ulterior motives.”  
  
Tachibana wasn’t going to deny that. “Don’t you?”  
  
“I don’t.” Atobe said with finality. Once more her eyes drifted to the spectators, who were thankfully a bit too far away to hear what they were saying.  
  
Tachibana said nothing, but her skepticism was obvious. She hadn’t lived here as long as most of the others, but even she knew all about Atobe’s reputation. The droves of hearts broken likely rivalled the number of members in the Hyotei Tennis Club.  
  
Atobe seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. “You’re not the only one who’s changed this past year and a half.” She said.  
  
Tachibana had to give her that one. There certainly hadn’t been any _recent_ rumours of Atobe’s love affairs. But most people just assumed she’d gotten better at hiding it. Still, Tachibana was pretty good at reading people and she didn’t think Atobe was lying.  
  
“So long as we understand each other.” Tachibana said and Atobe gave her a curt nod.  
  
Tachibana didn’t feel all together uneasy about the fact that Atobe seemed to be serious about Kamio. But she didn’t envy Atobe at all for having to try and get through Kamio’s notoriously high walls. Kamio was a force of nature and Atobe had her work cut out for her.  
  
Kamio was very stubborn and clearly had no trust in the Hyotei Captain. And yet, as Tachibana watched the way Kamio’s eyes drilled into Atobe, she wondered how long it would take Kamio to realize what Tachibana had already guessed.

  
  
The day after the joint-practice, Kamio was in a bit of a stupor. The way Atobe had ignored her throughout the entire practice had really bugged her. But she couldn’t figure out why. Wasn’t this what she wanted?  
  
Classes were finally over and when Kamio arrived at the tennis clubroom, everyone was crowded outside of it again. 

Kamio felt her heart speed up and there were suddenly butterflies in her stomach trying to beat their way out. Kamio pushed her way to the door, trying to get a clear vision of what horrors lay inside.

In the middle of the room was one of the most beautiful rackets that Kamio had ever seen. There was a giant bow on it and another envelope attached to it. When she came closer, she realized her name was on it.

“What is going on?” Kyou turned to Kamio.

Kamio burned red. “It’s going back to where it came from.” She stated immediately.

She couldn’t let Atobe win. This was seriously playing dirty. Atobe rubbing her money in Kamio’s face again, but this time it was something Kamio actually wanted. She didn’t know how often she’d stared at this exact racket in the window on her way home from school.  
  
She ripped the envelope off the racket. She could already tell who it was from by the perfectly pompous-looking writing. She wasn’t going to read it. Whatever it was. She crushed it in her hand.  
  
“Akira?” Tachibana-buchou’s voice broke her out of her stupor.  
  
That’s right, no one knew yet. “It’s a sick joke.” Kamio said, her voice a little hoarse. “Someone’s playing a joke and it’s not funny anymore.”  
  
Kamio could not for the life of her understand what this was supposed to mean. And there was no way Atobe could know just how resentful Kamio was right now. Dangling something Kamio wanted so badly right in front of her. If Kamio took it, Atobe would win this. Whatever _this_ was.

During practice, Kamio could hear Shinju muttering under her breath about the racket.

“I wish someone would send _me_ a nice racket.” She said, as always, either unaware or uncaring that everyone around her could hear her. “But Akira is just sending it back. She won’t even tell me who it’s from. Maybe they’ll send _me_ one too.”  
  
Kamio tuned her out with practiced ease.  
  
  
After practice they all went to a restaurant that just recently opened. They tried to all eat together at least once a month.  
  
The restaurant was a pretty ritzy looking place but without any ritzy pricing. Kamio asked the staff if they had any “fancy French stew” but they had no idea what she was talking about.  
  
No one pressured Kamio about the mysterious racket and she was glad. She felt bad for not telling them, but she didn’t know what to think about Atobe’s prank and she wasn’t looking for any second opinions at the moment. Tachibana-buchou had told them to let Kamio deal with whatever she was dealing with and that seemed to be the end of that. Kamio was grateful to her but she also felt like Tachibana-buchou knew more than she was letting on.  
  
After dinner they went to Shinju’s for one last practice before the music festival. They’d invited the whole team to get any last thoughts before their performance.  
  
As they set up, Tachibana-buchou came to stand by Kamio. “Are you okay?” She asked.

Kamio blinked, surprised. “Of course. Why?”  
  
Tachibana-buchou seemed to give her next words a bit of thought before speaking them. “Atobe seemed to be hanging around quite a bit the past couple weeks.”  
  
Kamio wanted to groan. “Don’t remind me.” She said, plugging in her guitar and testing one of the pedals.

“Akira…” Tachibana said a bit softly, like she was trying not to be overheard by the others. “Do you like her?”

Kamio thought she must have misheard. She stared, wide-eyed at her captain. Where in the world had _that_ idea come from? Hadn’t Tachibana-buchou noticed that Kamio was far more stressed and annoyed when something had to do with Atobe?  
  
“No.” Kamio said, sounding to her own ears a tad unconvincing. “Who could like that self-obsessed, drama queen?”

Tachibana-buchou seemed a little put-off by Kamio’s name-calling and she regretted saying it. “I just mean, she’s been really annoying lately.” Kamio amended.  
  
“Any idea why?”  
  
“Because she can’t stomach the idea that someone might not worship her? She keeps trying to embarrass me. It’s like her personal hobby at this point.” She should have guessed that Tachibana-buchou would be able to put two and two together. Who _else_ would fill their clubroom with blue roses? Who else would give Kamio a super expensive racket just to mess with her?  
  
Tachibana-buchou gave her a bewildered look and Kamio raised an eyebrow. “What?” Tachibana-buchou seemed surprised by her response. Well what had she been expecting?

“Akira,” Tachibana-buchou said, sounding like she was talking to a child. “I don’t think she’s been _trying_ to embarrass you. I think she might actually like you. But it’s painfully obvious she isn’t quite sure what to do about it.”

Kamio felt her entire body grow ten degrees warmer. “ _What_?” This had to be a joke. “She doesn’t _like_ me. She just wants me to _think_ she does so she can embarrass me again!”  
  
Kamio had said it with such conviction, that Tachibana-buchou didn’t appear to want to fight her about it.  
  
“Okay.” Tachibana-buchou relented. “But you didn’t see the look on her face.” After those strange and mysterious words, Tachibana-buchou went to sit back down with the others.  
  
Kamio was feeling a bit shaken. What did Tachibana-buchou mean, the look on Atobe’s face? Did Atobe have some other expression that wasn’t her haughty, regular look? Did she sometimes look like a human being and not some polished doll in a glass case? Well, if that was the case, maybe Kamio would have to look out for it then.

  
  
Finally, the day of the Musical Festival arrived. Kamio was almost as excited as she was about Tennis Tournaments, but not quite. They had practiced for so long, that she was mostly just happy to be done with it. She was looking forward to having some of her spare time back.  
  
There were schools from all over attending and Kamio definitely recognized some of the other students from former tennis matches. There was Mizuki from St. Rudolph and the second years from Yamabuki. Then there was Hyotei Academy’s massive school choir, with none other than Atobe at the front and center. Kamio resisted the urge to groan out loud.

Kamio sat down with the other members from her school in their designated area. Her eyes kept moving to where Hyotei’s seats were, near the front, to the right. She couldn’t see Atobe from her seat, but her eyes kept wanting to try anyway.

Luckily, there wasn’t that long of a wait before the first band, Rikkaidai’s Brass Band, started and the lights dimmed so Kamio’s attention was solely on the stage.  
  
Three performances later, it was Hyotei’s turn. Kamio noted, a little bitterly, that their choir uniforms were especially cute. They looked very sophisticated in dark grey vests and blazers against white button-down shirts. The ribbons around their necks were Hyotei’s light blue color and it matched their patterned skirts. It made Kamio even more grateful that she got to wear just a black t-shirt and her ripped jeans, since she was in a rock band. She’d worn her red sneakers and a red tie, to give some semblance of school unity.  
  
Hyotei’s choir was known around the entire region, so Kamio already knew that they were going to sound good. But they actually surprised her anyway. She felt herself get drawn into their music from the first bar. Time seemed to lull to a stop as Kamio got swept up in their sound.  
  
Then the spotlight narrowed, singling Atobe out. Kamio smirked and rolled her eyes, _of course_ Atobe would get a solo. She always had to be the center of attention, didn’t she?  
  
Kamio’s face had been something like a sneer, but it melted away into an expression of awe as the most beautiful music she had ever heard came out of Atobe’s mouth. Kamio’s breath caught in her throat. It was like her heart was in a vice.  
  
Kamio’s heartbeat stuttered at the way Atobe’s voice rang out, hitting every note perfectly in sequence. The music swelling and fading behind her. It was seriously unfair that Atobe was so effortlessly amazing at all the things Kamio tried so hard to be decent at.  
  
Atobe’s voice hit her ears like a cool breeze in the stifling heat. It sent shivers down her spine and made her hands tremble. For the minute that Atobe’s solo lasted, the entire world fell away into the darkness and the only light left, shone straight out of Atobe herself. The hair on the back of Kamio’s neck stood on end.  
  
When Atobe stepped back into the chorus and the world came rushing back, Kamio felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Even with Atobe’s solo over and the rest of the choir joining back in, Kamio could perfectly identify her voice within the din. She took a deep breath, apparently she hadn’t even breathed for that whole minute.  
  
Shinju nudged her. “What’s wrong?”  
  
Kamio just shook her head. She wasn’t sure how she would explain it even if she wanted to. She let her friends shepherd her out of her seat and to the side of the stage as Hyotei left the opposite direction to return to their seats.  
  
Kamio fumbled with plugging in her guitar and didn’t even hear the MC announce them until Shinju was nudging her again, this time toward the mic.  
  
She still hadn’t fully recovered from being blown away by Atobe’s voice as she mindlessly fiddled with getting the microphone to the right height. She only half heard what her bandmates were saying.  
  
The audience was an excited murmur as Kamio took an experimental strum to make sure they could hear her. Her bandmates looked to her expectantly. Oh, right. She needed to introduce them.  
  
“Yo.” She said into the microphone and her voice reverberated all around them. “We’re Fudomine.” She looked into the crowded seats. It was mostly too bright on stage to see anything, but for some reason, she could pick out Atobe anywhere. It was probably the unusual hair color and those piercing blue eyes. No one could possibly overlook her.  
  
Their eyes met and Kamio felt her heart skip a beat. Atobe’s voice was still ringing clearly in her head. She licked her lips, her throat _could not_ be getting dry _now_. “This song is called, Keiko--” her voice died before the last syllable. She saw Atobe’s eyes widen and Kamio felt her cheeks start to burn. She cleared her throat. “Keikoku.” She corrected herself. But she could still feel Atobe’s eyes burning into her. What a truly unfortunate slip of the tongue.  
  
Kamio covered her embarrassment by pouring her energy into the guitar and lyrics. She closed her eyes and let the melody wash over her, forgetting the audience, forgetting everything but the strings under her fingers and the words from her lips. She immersed herself in the music, letting it fill her and overflow. She could feel the energy of the audience flowing up onto the stage. She let it light her up.  
  
After the final chord had faded away, there was a beat of silence before the crowd went ballistic. The roar of applause brought Kamio out of the daze she’d been in. She blushed from the praise. She knew they were good, but it felt amazing to hear it shouted from the audience.  
  
They packed their stuff and vacated the stage. High from the adrenaline, the band hugged each other backstage before making their way back to their seats.  
  
  
The rest of the concert passed by in a flash and when it was finally time to announce the winners of the various awards, Kamio waited impatiently. They passed out the different miscellaneous awards first, but what everyone was really waiting for was the plaque winners.  
  
Kamio clenched her fists tight when the time had finally come. They would start with announcing third place.  
  
“The winner of the bronze,” The announcer paused for suspense. “Is Fudomine’s Rock Band.” The applause broke Kamio’s stupor but her heart had fallen a little. She thought they had placed at least silver. But she graciously accepted the award on behalf of the band and stood next to the podium.  
  
Second place went to St. Rudolph, who had done a rather stunning rendition of Phantom of the Opera, and Kamio wasn’t surprised that Hyotei placed first. They nearly always won, placing in the top three every year Kamio could remember, but this year their performance had been impeccable. For whatever reason, Kamio noticed that Atobe didn’t look satisfied with her prize. She looked a little sullen, though Kamio wondered if anyone other than her could see behind that fake shining smile.  
  
  
Kamio volunteered to wait with their things while the others went to find a taxi to take them back to school. She caught a glimpse of Atobe and the Hyotei Chorus leaving and she moved her eyes to stare at the ground. She didn’t feel like looking at Atobe right now because all she could hear was Atobe’s voice reverberating in her head.  
  
She didn’t notice that Atobe had sent her companions ahead and walked over to where Kamio was standing.  
  
When Kamio finally looked up, Atobe was right next to her, holding the impressive looking trophy. The ribbons from all the past winners spiralled off it and the gold cup caught the sun and shone right into Kamio’s eyes.  
  
“You were amazing.” Atobe said without a hint of sarcasm or smugness.  
  
Kamio stared, she wasn’t quite sure what to do with Atobe’s sudden praise. “Maybe we should have done a different song.” Kamio said. “Maybe the judges would have liked us more.”  
  
Atobe shook her head. “They just don’t have your good taste.”  
  
Another compliment out of nowhere. Kamio felt suddenly nervous. Her palms felt sweaty. She suddenly remembered what Tachibana-buchou had mentioned to her.  
  
“You should have won.” Atobe said and once again, Kamio couldn’t identify any insincerity. But Kamio had to disagree.  
  
“No,” She sighed. “I think the judges made the right call.”  
  
Kamio couldn’t help finding the pink that slightly coloured Atobe’s cheeks a bit attractive.  
  
Atobe shook her head. “I can sing fine, but you were the one who got the crowd really going. It was like we were at a real concert.”  
  
Kamio felt a bit uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going. It was a side of Atobe she had never seen before. She didn’t seem disingenuous, but normally narcissists couldn’t give praise to others, right? And she had to remember that if this was part of Atobe’s game, she couldn’t fall for it.  
  
“You’re voice is amazing. I felt like my heart was going to stop.” Atobe said. Kamio could feel her throat getting dry again. Her entire body was starting to react to how close Atobe was standing. “Though your friends could work on their stage presence. They might as well have been invisible.”  
  
…and just like that, all Kamio’s self-doubt and second-guessing evaporated.  
  
“How the hell can you say all those nice things to me and then just casually insult my friends?”  
  
Kamio ignored the way that Atobe’s mouth opened just a little, like she was surprised Kamio was defending her friends or something.  
  
Luckily she didn’t have to hang around much longer, because Shinju and Kyou had returned with a taxi and they started to fill the trunk with their baggage.  
  
Atobe was still standing there and Kamio did her best to ignore her.  
  
Finally Atobe said, “Kamio, wait.” And reached out to touch her arm.  
  
Kamio panicked, suddenly remembering when Atobe had touched her arm before and her entire body had sung. She moved away from Atobe’s outstretched hand and fixed her with contempt. “ _What?_ ”  
  
For a moment there was something in Atobe’s eyes that made Kamio’s heart beat in her throat. But then it was like a sheet of ice formed over those blue eyes and she said, “Never mind.” Before she turned on her heel and walked back toward her classmates.  
  
Kamio clenched her fists, her blood boiling. How had she thought Atobe was attractive, for even one second?  
  
  
Kamio was confused and angry. They had almost had a real conversation before Atobe had ruined it by being catty. Still, Kamio couldn’t stop thinking about the way Atobe had tried to say something to her… the way she’d looked really anxious for a moment… was that the look that Tachibana-buchou had mentioned?  
  
That night, Kamio had a dream. In it, Atobe was singing. Kamio watched her from behind a curtain of haze as her voice poured into her microphone and the sound was somehow transferred directly into Kamio’s ears like some kind of wireless, invisible headphones.  
  
Atobe was dressed in a silver dress that glittered and draped all the way down to the floor. It looked like ice shining in the sun. She moved like the 50s jazz singers Kamio had seen on TV, caressing the air and moving her shoulders. Her entire body swayed with the music. The song Atobe was singing was low and sultry and it made Kamio warm all over.  
  
When Kamio woke up, she still felt warm. What was happening? How had Kamio gone from wanting to do anything to get away from Atobe to her singing UA’s “Sunflower” in her dreams?  
  
Kamio wasn’t sure she was ever going to be able to hear Kaori Hasegawa again without thinking of Atobe. People claimed to hear violins when they fell in love, but Kamio now felt that if she ever did, all she’d hear is those record scratches.

  
  
It was Saturday and Kamio got up bright and early, scarfed down her breakfast, and headed to the street courts. She was still feeling strange from the dreams she’d been having and she was having trouble admitting it, but she hoped that Atobe would show up today.  
  
Kamio wasn’t even sure what she would say to her, if she said anything to her at all. They hadn’t been particularly kind to each other last time. Still, what Tachibana-buchou had told Kamio was still in her mind. What if Atobe _hadn’t_ been trying to trick her into embarrassing herself? What if Atobe actually liked her and Kamio had been being really harsh with her judgements? She had been so annoyed at all the people she imagined thought Atobe was too good for her, but hadn’t she been thinking the same thing? She felt inferior and that had stopped her from even imagining that Atobe might have a genuine interest in her.  
  
And really, Kamio had a _lot_ in common with Atobe. They were both tennis players very interested and invested in music. They both had a temper and even if Kamio didn’t want to admit it, they were both egotistical. Maybe the parts of Atobe she hated, were parts she hated most about herself.  
  
She couldn’t help thinking about it and by the time lunchtime came, Kamio was exhausted and just about ready to call it a day. It had gotten really hot out, so Kamio poured the last little bit of her water over her head to cool down.  
  
She jumped out of her skin when Atobe’s voice was suddenly saying her name. She spun around quickly and was filled with embarrassment that she was standing there soaking wet when Atobe finally decided to show up. It took a moment for Kamio to realize that Atobe’s cronies were standing behind her. They were all eyeing Kamio like she was some sort of foreign animal they’d never seen before.  
  
Because it was a weekend, they were all dressed casually and it made Kamio self-conscious that she was wearing just a plain t-shirt, that was now soaking wet, and shorts she’d made out of old pants. Meanwhile, they all looked like they just stepped out of a fashion magazine. Kamio tried to stop comparing them to herself. It only ever made her defensive.  
  
Atobe was wearing black shorts and a sleeveless, white shirt with a hood that made Kamio have flashbacks of the silver dress in the dream she’d had earlier. Atobe’s impossibly blue eyes poured into her, an oasis in the middle of a desert.  
  
Kamio heard those record scratches start up.  
  
“What do you want?” She said, to cover up her sudden nervousness. There was a softness in her voice that had never been there before. Especially not when she was talking to Atobe. Her palms were beginning to sweat and not from the tennis she’d been playing.

Atobe seemed at a loss for a second. Which was interesting considering _she_ was the one who’d walked over _here_. One of Atobe’s shadows, who Kamio knew as Oshitari, made a loud coughing noise and Atobe said, “I was just being honest… but it was really rude of me to talk about your friends that way.”  
  
Kamio felt frozen to the spot. Was Atobe _apologizing_ to her? This was such a surreal experience that Kamio felt like she must be dreaming again.  
  
There was another loud cough and Atobe said, “I’m sorry.” With only a hint of reluctance.

Kamio knew she was staring, but she couldn’t help it. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as Atobe shifted uncomfortably, waiting for Kamio to say something back. Kamio couldn’t help thinking about how easy it had seemed for Atobe to apologize to An, but now it appeared to be difficult. Then Kamio thought about how hard it was for _her_ to apologize to An because An was someone she really cared about and admitting you treated someone important to you like crap was a really hard thing to do…  
  
“Um, it’s okay.” She said haltingly and Atobe visibly relaxed.  
  
“Was that so hard, you big baby?” Shishido Ryo smacked Atobe on the shoulder before leading the rest of them toward some empty courts.  
  
Atobe didn’t move, but as Kamio watched the other Hyotei regulars move across the courts, rough-housing and making jokes among themselves, it made her further realize that she hadn’t been entirely fair to Atobe. She had never once thought of these people as Atobe’s ‘friends’, but rather her servants or the head fanclub members or something. But it was clear that they cared about her and it wasn’t because she ruled her tennis club with an iron fist.  
  
Atobe stuck a hand in her front pocket, “I brought you something.”  
  
Kamio was about to protest that she’d had enough of Atobe’s ‘gifts’, but Atobe pulled out something small and handed it to Kamio.  
  
Without thinking, Kamio took it. She blinked, surprised. It was a USB drive. “What is this?” She asked, suspicious.  
  
Atobe raised an eyebrow. “You don’t trust me.” It wasn’t really a question that needed answering.  
  
Kamio rolled her eyes. “What gave me away?”  
  
“We’ll have to do something about that.” Atobe said softly. When Kamio looked up at her, surprised, she grinned. “It’s just some music I thought you might like.”  
  
Kamio blinked. She was a bit taken back. Of all the so-called ‘gifts’ Atobe had shoved onto her, this was one that didn’t make Kamio feel like she was walking into a trap. In fact, she felt a bit warm inside imagining Atobe scrolling through her music, looking for something she thought Kamio might enjoy.  
  
She slowly closed her fingers around the drive.  
  
For a second, Atobe looked a little lost for words. “You’re not going to throw it in the trash?”  
  
“Depends. It’s not full of Inoue Yosui, is it?”  
  
Atobe’s eyebrow quirked. “What?”  
  
“You must be a huge fan since you named one of your strongest moves ‘World of Ice’.”  
  
Kamio could not help but find the way Atobe’s face coloured, impossibly striking.  
  
“No…” Atobe sputtered. “The ‘Hyo’ in Hyotei can be read like ‘ice’, right? So-”  
  
Kamio sang the first line of Inoue Yosui’s _World of Ice_. She enjoyed the way Atobe’s eyes widened, her face pink.  
  
“You’re wrong!” Atobe insisted. “It’s not Inoue, it’s a pun.”  
  
Kamio was having too much fun with this. It was amazing to see Atobe just a little bit flustered for once.  
  
“Come on,” Kamio grinned. “Your secret’s safe with me. There’s no shame in being a fan of a classic Japanese musician like Inoue.”  
  
Atobe crossed her arms. “I don’t have a problem with him. I’m just telling you you’re wrong.”  
  
Kamio slipped the drive into her pocket and Atobe gave her a sunny smile that made Kamio go from warm to hot, “This is the first time you’ve accepted one of my gifts.” Atobe said.  
  
Kamio gave her an annoyed look. “This is the first time you haven’t _embarrassed_ me in front of all my friends.”  
  
Atobe looked sheepish for a split second. Suddenly Kamio was thinking Tachibana-buchou had been right. She was beginning to realize that maybe this whole thing wasn’t an elaborate hoax. Maybe opera tickets, 100 roses, and expensive tennis gear was something totally normal in Atobe’s world. Maybe Atobe had no idea how to talk to a normal person. Still… even if Atobe meant it, you can’t replace real affection with _things_. This was the first time Atobe had appeared to make an actual effort to connect with her. Kamio felt a little bit lightheaded.  
  
“It’s also the first time you’ve given me something that isn’t completely ridiculous.” That was another sore point with Kamio. All of Atobe’s actions just made it look like she was showing off her wealth all the time.  
  
“I put a lot of thought into that tennis racket you unceremoniously sent back.” Atobe replied. “And the letter I wrote with it.”  
  
Kamio bit her lip and Atobe immediately saw through her. “You didn’t read, did you?” She said, unimpressed.  
  
“I figured it was another bossy note about the opera.” Kamio admitted.

Atobe looked honestly devastated for a second before recovering, “So…for future reference, you prefer mixtapes to roses?”  
  
Kamio felt her stomach flip. Two weeks ago Atobe was a sore winner and the star of a bad memory, now she was getting _butterflies_ just standing here with her? She narrowed her eyes. “What the hell am I supposed to do with _100_ roses? And why were they all Hyotei blue?”  
  
Atobe laughed. Her voice was strong and boisterous. “Well I couldn’t send 100 _black_ roses, could I? That’s just tacky. Just because you all probably have a deathwish wearing all that black in the middle of summer…”  
  
Kamio was also starting to realize that what she had always taken as Atobe’s insults, were probably just her way of making conversation. She just had no idea how to tone her attitude down or filter her thoughts to have polite conversations.  
  
Kamio crossed her arms, she was learning to just ignore Atobe’s random unsolicited opinions. “And another thing, typically people like to get things that they could easily reciprocate. Do your Valentine’s Day recipients have to empty their life savings on White Day?”  
  
The look Atobe gave her made Kamio a bit embarrassed. Why had she phrased it like that?  
  
“Are you saying you’ll make me a mixtape in return?” Atobe asked with just a bit of coyness that Kamio could totally tell she was faking.  
  
Kamio felt her cheeks burn. She had almost forgot what all this was actually about. Atobe couldn’t _buy_ people with presents. Just because Kamio was a little touched that she’d given her something she actually put a little effort into, didn’t mean Kamio was going to fall all over herself.  
  
“I’ll listen to it. That’s all I’m saying.”  
  
“Okay.” Atobe didn’t seem to have lost even an ounce of self-confidence. “But if you do feel compelled to reciprocate, I’m partial to the angry, cute side of you.”  
  
Kamio could practically feel her entire body turning red. She shoved past Atobe. “I was just leaving. I’ve been here since 8.” She said. Feeling compelled to emphasise that it wasn’t _because_ of Atobe that she was leaving. She also felt compelled to say, “Um… thanks for apologizing.” And then, “And for the… music.”  
  
“You’re welcome.” Atobe said. Softly and without any of her usual boisterousness. Her voice hit Kamio right in the heart again. The record scratches were sounding again. She quickly grabbed her bike and left.

Kamio had had an epiphany the other day and she realized that she needed to apologize to An immediately. She should not have left it this long, she was being a crappy friend. Just because it seemed difficult to admit that she’d been wrong, didn’t mean she should sacrifice their friendship over it. 

After school that day, Kamio staked out An’s classroom. This time she wouldn’t waver around or try and distract An from the actual problem. Kamio had screwed up and her pigheadedness had only made things worse. Her tunnel-vision when it came to Atobe was sort of impressive. Though she didn’t think An would think so.

When An finally stepped out of the classroom, Kamio stood up straight and waited until An noticed. An caught sight of her and after a moment of hesitation, came over.  
  
“I wondered where you’d been.” An said and Kamio instantly felt horrible again. Avoiding this had never been the answer. They’d been decent enough to each other when their friends were around, but Kamio had done a good job of avoiding and downplaying the simmering tension that had been between them since that fateful game.

“I’m the worst.” Kamio said and An didn’t look inclined to disagree. “All I had to do was say sorry and I couldn’t even do that.”

“Well,” An smirked. “You did seem a tad distracted.”  
  
Kamio’s face coloured. “Yeah…” she agreed. Did _everyone_ know what was happening before she did? But she was on a mission right now and she was _not_ going to get distracted again. “I’m sorry.” She said. She remembered how Atobe had needed her entire team to help her apologize and Kamio felt like she should have got Shinju or someone to help her from the start. To kick her ass into gear and she could have made things right again right away. She really admired the way Atobe went to her friends for help when she needed it. Maybe that’s why she always seemed so much better at everything than Kamio. She wasn’t afraid to ask for help.

“I forgive you.” An said, not even milking it the way Kamio probably would have if their positions had been reversed. But then An gave her a mischievous grin. “I’m letting this whole thing be a lesson to you. If you’d apologized sooner, I would have told you that Atobe had been asking our classmates about you.”  
  
Kamio felt like a lightbulb lighting up. If her face got any redder, she could be a siren light for a police car. “What?”  
  
“Things like when do you go to the street courts and when your classes end…”  
  
Suddenly Kamio knew why Atobe seemed to be everywhere Kamio frequented. Instead of the annoyance and slight fright that Kamio might have felt a week ago, she felt strangely happy. For once she didn’t feel threatened or suspicious. She felt like Atobe might actually like her… and what was more, she felt she might actually like her back.  
  
An clapped her on the shoulder. Kamio had a feeling she wouldn’t live this down for a long, long time. “You are so oblivious,” An laughed.  “I couldn’t even stay mad at you if I tried.”  
  
The week passed by without anything notable happening. Kamio’s friends said she was acting weird, but there was no way she was going to say anything about the recent developments with Atobe. After everything, she just wasn’t sure she could handle the embarrassment yet. She was especially careful to dodge the curious looks Tachibana-buchou gave her. How in the world had Tachibana-buchou known before _she_ had?  
  
It was Friday and Kamio had tennis practice soon. But she’d stayed behind after music class to tune the piano at their instructor’s request.  
  
Now she was alone, slowly plunking out the melody of an old song her mother used to sing. She hadn’t stopped thinking about Atobe since last Saturday and Kamio had had a rather distressing moment of recognition when she realized that Atobe had occupied her thoughts for much longer than just this week… it was merely the content of the thoughts that had changed. She was beginning to wonder what else about herself she was able to conveniently ignore.  
  
  
There was a soft knock on the door and Kamio looked up. Atobe was standing there in the doorway. Kamio wasn’t even all that surprised to see her anymore. Still, she asked, “What are you doing here?”  
  
Atobe was leaning against the doorjamb, making Kamio wonder how long she’d been standing there. She took Kamio’s acknowledgement as an invitation inside, which would have annoyed Kamio to no end just the other week. Atobe stood next to the piano.  
  
“I had a meeting with your illustrious leader.” She said.  
  
“Another secret joint practice?” Kamio asked.

“In fact, it is. We’re thinking of making it a regular occurrence.”

Kamio vaguely wondered why it was Atobe telling her this and not Tachibana-buchou. She was still a little sore over the fact that she hadn’t been informed last time. But it wasn’t as though she blamed Tachibana-buchou, if it hadn’t been a surprise, Kamio would have definitely opposed it. And she never would have been able to see Atobe play against Tachibana.

“Should you be telling me that?” Kamio asked. She still hadn’t really looked at Atobe. Ever since the music festival, she hadn’t felt like she could look her in the eye. The memory of her voice was still strong in Kamio’s mind, her sweet, low voice made Kamio’s fingers itch.

“Of course, you’re vice-captain after all.” She said and Kamio was glad at least someone thought that meant something. “I asked if I could be the one to tell you.” Atobe admitted.

“Why?” Kamio asked, finally looking up at Atobe.

Atobe looked like she wanted to laugh. “I just wanted to see you.”  
  
Kamio felt herself start to blush, so she turned her attention back toward the piano. She put her fingers in position and started to play the same song again.

“My mother used to love this song.” Atobe said. And Kamio didn’t know why that parallel with her own life sort of struck a chord inside her. She knew that it was from an old American movie that had been covered numerous times throughout the years by people all over the world. So it wasn’t _so_ strange that both their mothers had heard it.  
  
Then Atobe was singing. The same deep, strong voice that had haunted Kamio’s dreams ever since the music festival. Singing a song that was rapidly dispelling all the filial nostalgia that Kamio usually associated with it. Turning the song into something very different.

Kamio had _known_ it was a love song. But she had never really thought about the actual lyrics too deeply, as the tune was just catchy and her mother always hummed it. But now, the words falling out of Atobe’s mouth were striking her in the heart over and over again. And maybe it was her imagination, but she was pretty sure Atobe was singing it _at_ her.

The song switched from Japanese to English and so did Atobe’s singing. The foreign words sounding odd, yet perfectly formed coming from Atobe’s lips. She probably spoke perfect English. It was really unfair that Atobe was so perfect. But Kamio was getting better at not dwelling on their differences.

Kamio sort of wanted to stop playing because she was starting to feel overwhelmed with emotions she wasn’t sure she understood. But she also wanted to keep playing forever so that maybe Atobe would never stop.  
  
Atobe sat down next to her on the piano bench. And with every line she sang, it seemed like she was moving closer and closer to Kamio, slowly but surely. Finally, Atobe was so close that Kamio could almost _feel_ the words coming from her mouth. She could _feel_ Atobe’s body heat, so warm in the breezy cool of the music room. Kamio felt herself swallow. Her blood singing. Her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She took her fingers off the keys but Atobe didn’t stop singing. Acapella, her voice still had the same effect on Kamio’s senses. She felt captivated, completely lost in her voice. She turned her head and Atobe was _very_ close to her. If Kamio leaned in just a little further, their lips would touch.

She stared at Atobe’s lips for a long time, even after the other girl was done singing. She was confused. Hot. Her head felt fuzzy. What was this? Why did Atobe’s singing make her want to try and taste the melody from her mouth? Why did it tear down all her walls and expose her like this? Could Atobe tell what was going through her mind? How would Atobe’s hair feel sliding through her fingers? How would Atobe’s lips feel pressed against her own? How would those strong arms feel wrapped around her waist? Pulling Kamio closer…  
  
The school bell ringing snapped Kamio awake from everything she had just been imagining. She glanced at the clock. Shit! She needed to get going. She stood up from the piano bench and picked up her bag she’d flung beside the piano when she’d arrived. “I’m going to be late.” She said by way of explanation, not that she _needed_ to give Atobe an explanation.

Kamio could still feel the heat on her cheeks, so she didn’t look back at Atobe as she swiftly exited the room. But she caught a glimpse of her in the window of the door as she left. Atobe had her eyes squeezed tight and two fingers pressed to her forehead, as if she had a headache.

  
  
After practice Kamio checked her phone for missed messages and was surprised to see a text from a number she didn’t recognize.

It read, “I’m sorry I got your number from someone else. But I couldn’t seem to get the words out earlier. Last time I’ll ask, I promise. Tristan and Isolde? -A”  
  
Kamio didn’t reply. She closed her phone and got changed in a daze. She rode her bike home and ate dinner with her family as normal. It wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she finally picked up her phone again and typed, “Okay.”

Kamio didn’t know how to feel. The first time Atobe had asked Kamio to go to the opera, Kamio was certain it was some kind of trap. Some weird game that the Hyotei Captain had made up because she was bored with her own life and therefore wanted to ruin Kamio’s. But now when Kamio thought about everything, it was amazingly silly. Was Kamio really so insecure that it had been next to impossible to imagine that Atobe was completely serious when she first told her that she wanted to go to the opera together?  
  
Kamio felt she probably owed Atobe an apology of some sort. She was free to conjecture all she liked about Atobe’s intentions, she should have at least figured that Atobe wouldn’t _lie_ about her own feelings. It was so clear she had never had to lie about her feelings in her whole life, so why would she start with Kamio? And clearly Kamio had some demons to work out because she had to admit that the reason she’d been so defensive this whole time was because there was always a part of her that _liked_ and admired Atobe. She’d always assumed it was just enviousness because she had never let herself imagine that the two of them could be friends… let alone anything else…

Suffice to say, Kamio didn’t get a whole lot of sleep that night. All her thoughts circled themselves to lead to the one big question: was this a real date?

Kamio stared down at her sad collection of clothes. She had spread out her wardrobe on her bed and felt the distinct embarrassment at not having anything remotely suitable for a night at the opera. She had a dress her mother had made her buy for a cousin’s wedding that made her look like she was from _The Little House on the Prairie_ and a couple of skirts that she had liked when she bought them but now they seemed really dreary and old.

But really, what did it matter? It wasn’t like she was wanting to impress anyone or anything. But people dressed up for dates, right?

She was nervous, there was no denying that. But this time there was something else too…. She was excited. Actually excited. For a date with Atobe? Two weeks ago, if anyone had told her she’d be pouring over clothes in anticipation for a date with Hyotei’s Captain, she’d have laughed in their face.

At last, she decided on her least ripped pair of black jeans, her school uniform’s button down shirt because it was literally the only other shirt she had besides t-shirts, a black vest that she had to take some patches off of, and the tie she’d worn to the musical festival. All together she managed to look vaguely like someone attending a formal event. She decided to wear her leather bracelets too just to set herself apart from all the rich and fancy people she was sure would be there.

She nervously played video games until it was time to catch her bus into the heart of the city. She listened to _Tristan and Isolde_ the whole way there.  
  
  
Kamio had to stop herself from pacing in front of the theatre. Atobe had offered to pick her up, but she’d said she’d rather just meet there. Atobe picking her up just seemed so overly dramatic. But it wasn’t any _less_ dramatic when a limo pulled up and Atobe got out.  
  
Like usual, Atobe looked like a vision. She was wearing a short grey cocktail dress that looked all fluffy near the bottom. Her shoes made her way taller than her already tall height and were the same light blue as her Hyotei tennis uniform. Her jewelry was the same color of blue and glittered in the sunset. She really looked like a movie star arriving at some awards show. Kamio, like usual, felt instantly shameful about her lack of style but when Atobe’s face lit up at seeing her, she suddenly felt like the most attractive person in the whole world. She’d always thought Atobe was a narcissist, but maybe Atobe liked her because she was different? Because she made ripped, dirty jeans work for her even if she couldn’t manage to navigate a cocktail dress to save her life.  
  
Despite herself, Kamio felt her face break into a smile. But her smile faltered when someone else got out of the limo behind Atobe.  
  
Atobe smiled at Kamio, she didn’t seem to notice Kamio’s utter confusion.

She motioned to the girl Kamio recognized from Atobe’s team. “This is my kouhai, Ohtori.”  
  
Kamio’s heart sort of fell. Why would Atobe bring someone else if this was a ‘date’. She was also surprised as how disappointed she felt. She felt really unhappy. No one could possibly blame her for thinking this was a date right? The way Atobe had been acting this whole time? The way everyone had said Atobe was interested in her? What about that time she’d told Kamio she wanted to go with _her_? She hadn’t made it sound like it was going to be a group thing.  
  
Ohtori smiled brightly at her and Kamio pretended she wasn’t completely crestfallen. Kamio noticed the way people were stopping to look at them, since they’d just gotten out of a limo and she was really bothered by how good Ohtori and Atobe looked together. They were both tall and strong looking and Ohtori clearly had a better wardrobe than Kamio. People probably thought they were movie stars and Kamio was their manager or fanclub president or something. Kamio suddenly wished she hadn’t come. Wished she hadn’t said yes to Atobe thinking this was an actual date. She had _wanted_ it to be an actual date. What if she had misunderstood Atobe? What if she just wanted to be friends? Kamio wasn’t necessarily against that, but right now she was confused and upset and she couldn’t even say anything because it all sounded so silly and immature.

Atobe sat in the middle and Kamio was glad because this way she could almost ignore Ohtori. She could imagine that this was a real date. But every once in a while, as they waited for the show to start, they would start to talk about something Hyotei related and Kamio would feel left out and bitter again.

Once the show began though, it was easy for Kamio to concentrate solely on the show. Music was truly her happy place and the rest of the world faded away. She was caught in the drama and suspense of the opera and for that whole time she didn’t even give the strange ‘non-date’ another thought. When the show reached its end, Kamio found herself with wet eyes. When the curtain came down, she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She suddenly became aware that Atobe was looking at her and she turned her face away to hide the fact that she’d been crying.  
  
When the final bows had finished and the crowd finally began to move, Kamio could still feel all the emotions that the opera had elicited swimming around her. She sighed contentedly as she watched the people below them file out. When she looked to the seat beside her again, Atobe was grinning at her. It made Kamio feel nervous. Had Atobe watched her this whole time? Kamio hadn’t even noticed.  
  
Kamio was so high off the performance she had decided that she’d just misunderstood Atobe when she invited her. It wasn’t like Atobe had texted her, _This is a date and we’ll be alone_. Or anything, so Kamio couldn’t really hold that against her. It was enough that Kamio had got to come at all. It had been everything she’d hoped it would be. And if Atobe wanted to be friends, Kamio would make that work.  
  
Kamio excused herself to go to the bathroom. She splashed some water on her face and tried to fix the weird way her bangs were falling. She wished she had some kind of eyedrops to take the red from crying out of her eyes. Atobe had mentioned something about a restaurant next. Kamio just hoped it wasn’t KB Haute Cusine again. Though she had often dreamed of trying that soup again she wasn’t sure she wanted to remember everything that had happened up til now.

Kamio exited the bathroom and caught sight of Atobe and Ohtori standing with their backs to her. As she approached, she realized they were having what sounded like a private conversation. They didn’t notice that she was practically right behind them.

  
“Thank you for inviting me.” Ohtori was saying. “It was an amazing show.”

  
“It was nothing,” Atobe replied.

  
“Though I do feel it’s unfair of you to use my Regular position this way. You didn’t have to blackmail me into coming. You could have just said you didn’t want to go alone.”

  
Kamio felt her heart twist painfully in her chest. What did that mean? Atobe had blackmailed someone into coming with her, just so she didn’t have to go with just Kamio? Hadn’t she been unabashedly harassing Kamio for this the entire time?  
  
“Then I’ll remember that for next time. It’s just, she’s so emotional-” Atobe said and Kamio knew she was talking about her. Kamio couldn’t stand listening to anymore so she turned around and left before they could see her.  
  
It had been Kamio’s suspicion all along that Atobe was messing with her. What Kamio _hadn’t_ been expecting was how hurt she would feel. She’d actually come here thinking this was a date and that maybe … maybe what? That someone like Atobe could actually like her? That was the butt of the joke, wasn’t it?

  
  
When Kamio got home, she stormed into her room and collapsed on her bed. Just what the hell had that whole thing been? She didn’t understand. She never had. What the hell did Atobe want from her? She didn’t want to think about it, so she put her headphones on and chose her angriest playlist.

She must have fallen asleep because suddenly her mother was shaking her shoulder and Kamio jumped, instantly awake.

Her mother gave her a strange look. A look Kamio knew said, _just what on Earth have you been up to?_ “Someone’s here for you.” She said.

Kamio felt her stomach turn. She could already tell who it was. Someone who probably wasn’t happy Kamio had ditched when whatever game this was wasn’t even over yet. But she didn’t want to make her mother send her away or ask too many questions, it was just too exhausting to explain it all.

Kamio slowly made her way down to the door where Atobe was waiting. She was still wearing what she’d worn to the opera and Kamio just knew her family would be pestering her relentlessly about this. Her big brother would be particularly annoying.

“Let’s go outside.” Kamio said and walked out the door, not looking back to see if Atobe would follow.

When they were outside with the bit of privacy, Kamio suddenly wondered if Atobe was cold, wearing that in the night. Her arms and legs exposed. But she was still angry and not going to concern herself with Atobe’s comfort.

“Why did you leave?” Atobe demanded right off the bat.

Kamio crossed her arms, defensive. She was angry. Really angry. Atobe had embarrassed her _again_ , talked behind her back, and then followed her home to demand answers? It should be the other way around, right?

“I heard what you and Ohtori were saying.” Kamio said, no use in beating around the bush.

Atobe stared, apparently at a complete loss. “What did you hear?”

“That you blackmailed her into going just so you didn’t have to go with me. Even though _you_ invited me to begin with. And then you started talking about how _emotional_ I am.”

Atobe fixed her with a hard look. “So you automatically assumed the worst. That’s terribly dramatic.”  
  
Kamio nearly laughed. “I can’t believe _you_ of all people are calling me dramatic.”

Atobe pressed two fingers to her forehead and shut her eyes, Kamio was beginning to see that she did this when she was particularly frustrated.

After a moment, she looked at Kamio again. “I invited Chou because I was afraid of being alone with you.”

Kamio frowned. What the hell?  
  
Atobe shifted uncomfortably, clearly struggling with whatever it was she had to say, or maybe she was just cold after all. “I always seem to say the wrong thing and make you angry. I thought maybe having her there would stall the inevitable… but that was clearly pointless, since I managed to screw it up anyway.”

Kamio swallowed. She didn’t know quite what to say to that. “I thought you were playing a game with me.” She admitted at last.  
  
“I was.” Atobe said and for a moment Kamio’s blood ran cold. Then she continued, “But we seem to have very different ideas about what I was trying to win.”  
  
Kamio had always just assumed Atobe was out to make a fool out of her. But why? It wasn’t like it would accomplish anything. It was just Kamio’s own massive ego that made her believe that somehow her humiliation was at the top of Atobe’s priority list.

  
“As for calling you emotional, I probably shouldn’t have worded it that way. What I meant was you react so strongly to everything. It’s something I really like about you. I find that part of you really attractive.”  
  
No one had ever said that about her before. She _did_ have a temper, that was common knowledge, but no one had ever said it was a quality they found attractive. Usually it was something that pushed other people away, it was something that frightened people, made them not want to be around her. The only exceptions had been the people she’d met through the Fudomine tennis club. A club that had formed essentially out of a fist fight in her first year. They never found Kamio’s temper bothersome, were never frightened of how strongly she reacted to things.

Kamio didn’t know what to say to Atobe. Obviously, this communication thing wasn’t getting any easier for them.

Suddenly Atobe let out a massive sigh, startling Kamio out of her whirlwind of thoughts. “I know you didn’t read that letter I sent with the racket that time, so I’ll just say it. I like you. I think you’re amazing and I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time we had dinner. I know I was never someone you might have considered before, but I kept hoping I could change your mind. I know I’m pushy and if I made you uncomfortable, I never meant to. I just hoped that you’d give me some more of your time so you would see how I felt about you.”  
  
Kamio had stopped breathing. Watching Atobe recite this like a poem she’d memorized was making her dizzy. The confession made Kamio’s skin a bit hot. Who says things like that so easily?

“But I can see now that no matter how much I want you to take me seriously, I can’t stop hurting you and making you upset. And if you honestly think that I’m the kind of person who would pretend to like someone for some kind of cruel joke, it’s no wonder you don’t like me back.” She closed her eyes for a second, resigning herself. Kamio was getting anxious, but she was suddenly unable to find her voice at the moment. “So I’m sorry, for everything. I won’t waste anymore of your time.”

Something told Kamio that she should say something. Accept the apology. Tell Atobe she was wrong, she _did_ like her back. Anything. But it was also too much to process and instead she stood where she was and watched Atobe walk away.  
  
  
All the following week, Kamio couldn’t concentrate on anything. She felt like she’d just lost the biggest game of her life. She felt like a loser because she’d essentially broken her _own_ heart. The person she liked, _liked_ her back! It wasn’t a one-sided, hopeless love. Kamio had just messed it all up because she was, at heart, a suspicious and untrusting person who didn’t know how to love other people.  
  
“That is the most self-pitying, pathetic thing I’ve ever heard.” An said in reply to this last statement. As always, not a hint of sympathy, just the cold, hard truth.

They were sitting on the tennis court benches after tennis practice. Kamio had relayed the entire story.  
  
Kamio’s first reaction was to get indignant, but she was committed to trying this new thing where she didn’t burn any bridges with the people she cared about. She waited, instead for An to elaborate.  
  
“You do fine with loving people.” An said. “You love me and big sis and everyone else. The only reason you have such a hard time with Atobe is because you’ve spent so much time resenting her.”  
  
That was painfully true. If Kamio didn’t have such a massive ego problem, things might have gone a lot smoother. It was ironic that Kamio had thought she hated Atobe’s ego when really it was just Kamio projecting her own insecurities onto her. In reality, Atobe had a strong will and character and Kamio had been threatened by that. It had made it all but impossible for her to believe Atobe was actually serious about her. But now it all seemed too late.  
  
“If you want to talk to her, just go talk to her.” An said and Kamio was sort of bitter that An made it sound so easily done.  
  
“She’s not going to talk to me.” Kamio said. She absent-mindedly fiddled with her shoelaces. “Not after everything that’s happened. And what would I even say?”  
  
“How about the truth?” An raised an eyebrow. “Is that so hard? Just tell her that you’re a gigantic boob and maybe you guys can try again.”  
  
“Sure, it sounds easy when _you_ say it.”  
  
An shrugged. “Write a letter then.”  
  
Kamio remembered the letter Atobe had mentioned, the one Kamio hadn’t read. The one Kamio probably wouldn’t have believed even if she _had_ read.  
  
…but that gave her an idea. It all seemed so obvious now.  
  
  
It was Friday. The last day of school before spring vacation. Before the third years would move on and the second years would become the heads of the school. It was a bittersweet time, exciting but scary.  
  
Atobe slowly made her way up the stairs to the tennis clubroom. Today was her official last day as tennis club captain. There was still the whole spring vacation, where they would still practice together as a team. But as far as the academic calendar was concerned, her term as their leader was over.  
  
As she made her way into the room, she noticed two white boxes stacked on her desk. She frowned, sitting down on her chair. She opened the first box.

Inside were three roses. One red, one white, and one black. Fudomine’s colours. There was a small card attached that read, “Three’s all I can afford. Sorry there’s not a million.”  
  
Atobe swallowed slowly. She already knew who it was from, but what was it supposed to mean exactly?  
  
In the other box was a roll of grip tape with a bow on it. Attached to it was another small envelope. This note read, “I wasn’t going to buy you a whole racket. We’re not all rich you know.” – K.  
  
Atobe reached for her phone. What was all this? Did it mean what she thought it did? She found Kamio’s number and pressed ‘talk’. It had barely rung once when Kamio picked up. All she said was, “I’m outside.” Before hanging up.  
  
Atobe made her way back down the stairs and out the door to the short path to the tennis courts. Kamio was waiting and Atobe had to bite her bottom lip to keep from showing any emotion.  
  
“You know that black roses mean ‘death’ according to the Hanakotoba, right?” Atobe drawled.  
  
Kamio crossed her arms, looking unimpressed. Atobe grinned. She'd always found Kamio’s defensiveness adorable.  
  
At Atobe’s grin, Kamio just rolled her eyes.  
  
Kamio reached into her pocket and held out a thin envelope.

Atobe took it and opened it. Inside were two tickets to the next opera coming next month. Tannhauser. Box seats. Something Kamio couldn’t afford.

“How did you get these?” Atobe asked.  
  
Kamio was clearly annoyed by the question but then eventually figured it was a fair one. Obviously they were out of her price range.

“I entered like seven radio contests and two lotteries.” She said.

“Is this a peace offering?” Atobe asked.  
  
Kamio raised an eyebrow. _Now_ who was being oblivious?

“I was hoping it could be a date.” Kamio said.

Atobe looked at the tickets and then back to her. “A date?” She said slowly.

“Yes.” God, how long was Atobe going to look that smug? “A _date_. So don’t invite anyone else.”

There was a moment of silence before Atobe goaded her. “Well? Aren’t you forgetting to say something?”

Kamio stared at her, ever defiant. “If you’re waiting for a big, dramatic confession, you can go rent a movie.”

Atobe rolled her eyes but the happiness in them was obvious. “You’re not very eloquent, are you?”

“Well you’re the one who likes me, so I guess you’ll just have to live with it.”  
  
“I suppose I will.” Atobe agreed.  
  
Kamio opened her mouth to say something else, but Atobe cut her off with a kiss. Kamio had the vague, panicky notion that Atobe’s team members were watching them, so she felt like she needed to push her away, except Kamio really didn’t want to. Besides, she was exhausted from worrying about embarrassing herself all the time. Why couldn’t she do something ridiculous once in a while? Something she _wanted_ to do? So she pulled Atobe closer, reaching up to pull her down. Atobe’s arms wrapped around her waist and Kamio couldn’t stop the flood of butterflies that made her entire body shiver.

Atobe was a good kisser and Kamio found herself wondering what other things Atobe might be good at… but she stopped that line of thinking before she followed it too far. Kamio was fast, but she didn’t mind going slow either.  
  
When they finally parted, Kamio became aware of the cat-calling and hollering all around them.

“Get back to work!” Atobe snapped at her voyeuristic team members, after which the Regulars hissed and booed at her. She still hadn’t let go of Kamio. She had her arms around Kamio’s back. Kamio liked the way Atobe had to lean down to kiss her. She also liked how Atobe’s long hair had touched her face when they’d kissed, it was soft and smelt like expensive shampoo. Atobe was looking down at her, her eyes intense and looking slightly bewildered. Kamio’s heart was beating wildly. Yes, this was what she had wanted. This felt right.

Kamio felt exhilarated. It was the same way she felt after winning a big match. Her entire being was on a high to some beautiful music only she could hear. The words were flowing before she even thought about stopping them. “You’re beautiful.”

It took Kamio’s mind a few seconds to realize what she had just said, then the way Atobe’s face went completely pink and her eyes completely wide made Kamio burst out laughing instead. It was bizarre to think that someone who _knew_ how beautiful they were could be so caught off guard by the simple truth. But Kamio figured it was always different coming from someone you liked.

Atobe kissed her again, cutting her off mid-laugh. Kamio didn’t mind at all. This time, when they parted there was no fanfare. Kamio still heard it in her head though.

“Stay here. Come practice with us.” Atobe said motioning to the lavender courts beyond.

“I can’t.” Kamio said reluctantly. “We’re leaving for a tennis camp. I won’t be back until next Sunday.”

Atobe looked unimpressed. “I’ve finally got you and I have to wait a whole week to see you?”

Kamio looked sheepish. “Sorry.” But she wasn’t actually sorry. “If we’re going to beat Seigaku, Rikkai, _and_ Hyotei next year, I can’t skip any training opportunities.”

That seemed to be a reason Atobe understood very well because she just gave a deep sigh instead of trying to argue. Atobe released her and Kamio felt suddenly a bit cold, losing the warmth.

“Well, bye.” She said quickly and gave Atobe a fast peck on the cheek. She wanted to make the farewell quick or she might just end up staying after all.

Before she’d gotten too far, Atobe grabbed her hand. When Kamio turned back to her, Atobe brought the hand to her lips. Kamio’s butterflies were full grown birds now. Atobe kissed her hand and moved her ice blue eyes up to meet Kamio’s.

Her eyes were so intense and honest and blue and maybe _this_ was what Tachibana-buchou had seen way before Kamio had. If Kamio had ever really paid attention to Atobe’s eyes, things might have gone very differently.

When Kamio took her hand back, it was still warm from Atobe holding it. She turned away to hide her sudden self-consciousness. “Tell Wakashi, they better train twice as hard.” She said. And when she did give one last look, Atobe was grinning.

“I will.” She promised.

“Oh, before I forget.” Kamio handed Atobe something small. A USB.

Atobe took it and wrapped her fingers around it, protective. She looked a bit in awe. She looked how Kamio felt at the moment, like she had woken up from a dream only to realize it was reality. Kamio had to leave now before her heart exploded.

At the gate she took one last look behind her. Atobe was still standing there, watching her. Kamio gave her a small wave before heading around the corner and stifling her laughter. The USB was the entire discography of Yosui Inoue.  
  
She knew Atobe would get her back for that somehow. But for the first time, she was actually looking forward to it.

**Author's Note:**

> I like to imagine that the first concert is Sekai no Owari and the second is Fear, and Loathing in Las Vegas.
> 
> I think I named most of the tracks in the story, the only one I didn't was the old song Kamio is playing on the piano. It's "Love Me or Leave Me" and Atobe sings the Misora Hibari version.
> 
> Someday I might want to write an AU where all the tennis teams are music clubs/choirs.


End file.
